New Tricks

I went down to the studio today to start work on a pewter project. As usual, I had to clear some detritus from previous projects, days of tidying where I'd tossed stuff onto the tabletop (“just for the moment”). I got the soapstone sanded, but by that time, looking at the bench top was making me a bit squirrelly. I needed to get the bench back....now. Before I did anything else. It didn't take long, and I got to throw out a few bits of junk and make better spaces for things along the way. While I was at it, though, I was thinking about why it is that I have a tendency to work in places other than my studio more often than not. I spent years, decades even, longing for studio space – space where I could just work. Dedicated space with the things I needed to hand, and room to do things without constantly having to clear things first, or reorganize, or set up from scratch or... Here I am, living what is pretty close to my dream, with more than one dedicated studio space, and still, when I think about making chain or about a third of the things I might be likely to do on a regular basis, my first thought is taking what I need upstairs to the table to work. Granted, in the winter, this puts me in close proximity to the stove, which makes for some cozy working. But it means packing things up before, and after – moving stuff from space to space, running down to the studio when I realize I've forgotten something, clearing it all away to allow for our use of the table for other things. It just doesn't make sense. Why on earth is that my first instinct? I've been here a while now, and the studio gets a better flow to it every six months to a year as I try new iterations and figure out my workflow and my real use of the space. So, what is it? I figured out that it boils down to a few things. The first is simply habit. For all the years I've been making I never had a dedicated space. My habit takes me to my familiar table to work, the places I've always worked. I always wanted a space, but I never had one, and now I frankly don't know what to do with it half the time. I suspect that is a part of my unconscious reason for keeping it in a semi-unworkable state.

Another part of it is that I am used to working in a barely controlled chaos state. Maybe a part of me thinks that such a state contributes to my creativity. In forcing myself to think outside the box to get something done I am firing up those creative juices. In clearing a space or setting up my tools I am beginning to get my head into the project. What if I can't create without the chaos? Ridiculous, of course. I will need to prep tools and spaces to a certain degree regardless of whether my space is purpose made and ready. All I'm doing is wasting some of the creative juices on the extraneous tasks. I do suspect that my brain has been playing me a bit though, based on the above idea. I am beginning to think that I have to learn how to work without the chaos. I have to stop being afraid that if I get used to the luxury of this it will disappear and I won't be able to work without it anymore, because I'll have lost the skills and know-how. Nearly every time I tried to create dedicated spaces before they got compromised away, so that is what I'm expecting, somehow. Clearly, having realized all of this, it is time for me to learn some new tricks. Learn to trust in what I have, to glory in it and to use it well while I have it. There will always be an outside chance that it will disappear on me. Things can happen, no matter how unlikely. In the meantime though, I should be making the most of what I've got...I certainly know how lucky I am to have it! Even if it did disappear, I know I could find a way to work – I always have. If I waste what I have now, that is what would make me regretful. So that is one of the many things that I am going to be focusing on in the next while, creating new habits, getting comfortable in the spaces I am so blessed to have at my disposal and learning how to get out of my own way and just make the things that fill my brain and my dreams, all those things my hands ache to do. I'm getting to be an old dog, but I think I've got a little room yet for some new tricks.