Why not, the space was tidy, as is most days. The glorious autumn sun was casting a magnificent glow. I am usually a little embarrassed of my meager space. The wall color is off just a tad, but I guess I can live with it.
The stools could be a little softer, perhaps a nice vintage cushioned stool with a back. I love the way the carpet massages my tender just pedicured feet as I walk around from this view to the other side with my four sewing machines.
When I was pregnant with our first son, my husband and I attended a parenting class at the hospital. One night's lesson was about breathing and focusing through the pain. Our instructor asked for the women to close their eyes and find their "peaceful, relaxing space". Mine looked like my studio above, with three sewing machines and one Serger, all perfectly threaded with what ever the color I needed. Stacks of fabric more scrumptious than the largest fabric store. The sharpest scissors that made the most glorious sound when cutting. A notions wall with thread and ribbon and all the tools I would need to do my current project.
It was only until after we all opened our eyes and the instructor was suggesting the places we were...beach, mountains, private island. Nope, I was in my studio. Am I a freak? I mean, who wants to be pregnant on an island where I can even have a cocktail? And the sand? I can't imagine getting that out of places I can't even reach when pregnant.
Okay, so maybe the above picture is just that peaceful, relaxing space in my dreams and not my REAL studio. But why would you want to see the real space? Truth is, I really don't have one space. My stuff is ALL over. I am trying to get it all down in my 'real' studio, but it isn't quite fitting. And the lighting..."terrible" just doesn't even come close.
My other Twitter pal, Macaroniandglue works in a pantry. Maybe it makes us stronger? Working in unfortunate spaces only encourages the creative spirit? Maybe? I usually sit there thinking, man, I am working in a hole.