My mother would be appalled to know that I am about to show you how bad things can get in my "room." When I was a young child, my sister and I were forced to keep things neat and tidy. All the time.
When we got our own rooms, my mother didn't go upstairs that often.
And thus, my room's appearance devolved into the total disaster state.
I knew where everything was. In piles across the floor. I never lost anything. Periodically I was forced to clean. Which I did. And sometimes I even did it without prompting.
But my natural state must be messy. Even though my brain feels calmer with a clean and tidy environment.
Thus we have the problem of running in and out of my studio. Grab something. Throw something in.
It's been in quite a state since I returned from Seminar in September. I almost had it licked one day in October and then came another round of classes and things I needed to find and................
Here's a stitcher's unnatural environment:
From the doorway looking in.
The corner near the closet.
Heading down the wall towards the books.
Even my chair is occupied!
Now I've confessed my dirty little secret. I see canvases on the floor! Yikes. I have two cats. Even they aren't going in here right now. It's pretty bad.
Today I'd like to right theses wrongs. But hubby has kindly given me his Thanksgiving head cold. I'd love to post a photo where we can see the rug tomorrow. But I may take an extended nap instead.