Creative Activity = Mess = Progress

There is a colorful mess in the studio right now.  I am in the "Oh— I'll try that next" mode, which means that when I pick up something that has a possibility I would like to develop, it does not go back in its proper place, but stays on the stitchery table.  I have managed, by means neither helpful to me nor to the item I just left on the table, to scoop out a tiny place to work . . .

Once Upon A Time, when I was teaching at the Campbell Folk School in Brasstown, NC, Alice Berg was in my class.  Alice's specialty was Alice in Wonderland paper projects, and she was very good at this.  She said that no matter how much space she planned for herself, she always had only a small area on her table to work.  Having two tables didn't help for more than a few minutes.  This gave me hope for myself, and I began to believe that at the end of my time I would not be judged by my workspace but by what I produced in it.  After all, if neatness was the criteria for living, this would be a very clean and tidy planet with absolutely nothing of interest happening on it.

Bethy shares my space on the days she is with me.  Here are dress-up clothes (inspiration) and some really fantastic aprons donated by Jill (she will sometimes wear two, one to cover the back, one for the front).  And there is the tiny desk I had as a child, that her dad used as a child, and that she now uses.  The lid lifts, and (in theory) all her things can be stored inside.  The reality is that she has habits of impulse and untidiness so like my own, including the tendency to hold on to things that should be thrown away but that just maybe-could-be-possibly-one-day useful . . .  So, there is a bit of clutter that goes unchecked in an otherwise cluttered space— but we are both comfortable with it.  Creativity is not always tidy, is it?

That is a long, long, bit of hem-hawing and excusing oneself for not photographing the rest of the studio, isn't it?

Meanwhile, I found the most amazing pieces of linen in a bag that had been stored in my son's basement for years.  His clean-out was a big one, and when he brought this to me, I jumped at the chance to wash and dry it (heavy, rough linen meant for counted work) and to add some color to a piece of white linen that has such an appealing texture . . .  They're somewhere on the stitchery table, I believe . . .  Maybe if I have a cup of tea first . . .

C = M.
M = P.
Elementary, my dear Watson.