January Quiet

The January studio is tidy and cold, the light is sometimes so harsh and other times barely there. I really don’t mind at all. Trying to remember to always look close and appreciate what makes me happy, and force myself to take the time to trim away the things that don’t. That industrial tape dispenser makes me happy, so does that glowing milk carton.

There is always room to improve, there is a major stamp pad situation that might need handling. I don’t even know how that happens (wait I do ..does anyone remember Archiver’s stores? I loved those stores so much!) I trimmed my stock back a bit last year, only keeping the weird ones, like the destressing inks, glitter inks, glue inks, glow inks, and all the scented pads, yes in my world the green ink is spearmint scented and the pink, bubblegum! I can’t remember the last time I reached for some of these though, so maybe it’s time for another go through?

I think I will always love little fiddly knits, using the small scraps from past projects for cute new stuff, wool brooches endlessly have my heart. ๐Ÿ’•

Still not a fan of the wintering plants and I’m torn about the antique dresser, mostly because it’s a hiding place, currently holding overflow bric-a-brac that at the time of the big clean out I couldn’t let go of. It’s been easier since then to pick away at the layers, I still find things that seemed important then, that I’m now willing to part with. Starting to understand that I don’t need to pad myself with stuff, taking notes on the difference between useful and useless in terms of things I hope, plan, wish to use and useless things I hang onto because of the emotion or money I put into them.

Just appreicating current favorites and when they aren’t favorites, being ok with letting them go.

I do love capturing the moody and mundane, sometimes with just the right amount of merk and muck (my winter wasteland), I don’t want to ever overlook or forget the simple everyday.

๐Ÿ’•

Ready

The grey days, the false starts, the melt, the mud, the fresh restlessness of seeing bare ground. The warmth of constantly being above freezing and an end to bundling and unbunling whenever you go anywhere. Feeling small, new, little green things (who knows what they are) poking out of the bleek landscape. I’m ready for new projects, bubbling over with ideas and longing for straight from the garden vegetables, I’m ready for you spring. ๐Ÿ’•