My Granny always used to say tidy house tidy mind. Oh how I wish for those qualities, that make one tidy and ordered. How I wish to be able to walk into my studio, fabric folded neatly into boxes, my millions of beautiful buttons back in their home, instead of the piles on the floor that so frequently have to be rescued from the hoover. I long to have jars of paintbrushes in neat rows, soft, beautiful and ready to create. My books and beloved collection of Vogue's on shelves in some kind of system, so I don't have to pull out every book I own to find the one I want.
But maybe if I was always tidy and everything had it's place. I would not have the joy of finding a dog eared drawing that you really liked that inspires you on your way, or that vogue 1993 June with a beautiful photo of a John Galliano jacket that you loved so much then, and still do now. Or maybe just maybe you find that beautiful mother of pearl button that you had put safe for something lovely.
I think their needs to be a happy medium, this means not over romanticizing all the lovely finds, because it is not always like that. The dead spiders endless plates of paint and printing ink that Archie the cat has walked through, are never good.
There are many things to blame for my untidy ways, the untidy gene I inherited from my mum, one of those creative minds that doesn't work well in order, and time.
But for now I will try to clear up and try hard not to be distracted by lovely friends popping round for a glass of wine and a natter, watching the butterfly ballet on the Verbena in my garden and of course catching up on the Archers.
Tidy studio, tidy creative mind !
Some hope.
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