Carving Out A Lovely Corner

I am finding that during this time of year, the light coming in the front window is the prettiest right around the time I leave for the studio. These magic moments happen much earlier in the summer. I can enjoy them longer. When they happen so late, my day is rolling and I can't savor it. Oh how it makes me not want to leave. It makes me want to make a bowl of oatmeal or cook a sunny side up egg or slice a grapefruit and sit in that sun. Maybe tomorrow. Today lingering wasn't possible with a half done disaster area studio I left the day before. It had weighed on my mind all night. I was still pushing the last pieces of furniture here or there in my mind as I dosed off, wondering if my choices were right and deciding where the last few pieces would move to.




Once I opened the door to my studio, I recognized that this is going to take some getting used to. Apart from moving the sink and deco table, I have essentially mirror imaged the room. I'm Alice inside the looking glass... everything is backwards. I am in love the corner of loveliness I've situated in the light. All my honey toned cabinets together make me melt. Literally. I caught myself staring dreamily at them, all bunched together, several times.

I made quick work of organizing my dozens of spools of wire. Then promptly took to hunting Pinterest for new spool sorting inspiration. I have an idea I'm going to try to put into action tomorrow.

That building manager I mentioned yesterday stopped by with some news. His ears must have been ringing. He said that there was a space on the 4th floor for me to peek at. The fabulous Lucinda had asked for dibs on it but when she read I was longing to join that floor she acquiesced. I just couldn't see myself there, though, and she could, so I passed. The right one will come along, and it won't have full southern exposure.



It feels good to have this to focus on right now, instead of walking in the door and trying to just start creating again. All the distractions are actually settling my thoughts in the way that mindless distractions do. I have ideas forming, and growing, and I know I'll get to them soon. They have more time to get stronger.

I had to chuckle to myself this afternoon, during the time I thought would be the reflection-on-my-day-time. I was reminded why I always write in the quiet morning hours... it is my time. In the afternoon, it is all Momma needed time. And now, here I am, having waited for everyone to go to bed to have some peace and reflect. I'm drained though. I still think the change is good, it'll just take some getting used to.

It is another way in which things are backwards! HA!

I'm sure the adjustment would be made greatly easier with a warm bath and snuggle under extra blankets.

I am sure you have heard me gush before about those few moments of morning light to mimic that golden hour light of evening. Mornings always seem to rush by, I wish it was a golden hour and not just moments. I was feeling a heavy weight this morning... another early rise, another day where I can't get to the studio, another sink full of dishes, another load of laundry to do... As a walked down the hall to start on some chore or another, I caught that moment of morning light and paused to soak it in.

I still feel the weight of the monotony of another day away from what I love, but that deep intake of sun warmed my resolve just enough.

When I loaded these images on to the computer, I was amazed to see what an influence this room has on me. Unbeknownst to me, the set of beads I am sending to my Bead Soup Blog Party partner, the amazing Diane Cook, match the morning light perfectly.