I have this wonderful fantasy that I’d just love to indulge in – a purpose built studio. Just one small room, with wide doors looking out onto the garden, tucked into the back corner of the yard near the fence. And I’ve been obsessing about it for years.
Currently, my ‘studio’ is in the dining room on our big, wooden table. It’s noisy, hot, and at the centre of the house; it’s also perfect for my two small fidgety children, who like to pull off and run away with anything I happen to be working on. Not ideal, to say the least; but I’ve managed so far, and will probably manage for a good while longer.
To keep me going, I dream studios. I imagine being in a space all my own, with all my creative bits and pieces housed neatly around me - a place where I always know where things are, and where beloved items never mysteriously disappear into the void. I dream of filling orders, playing with ideas, and drinking tea, of planning out the week, working late into the night, and listening to the sounds of the garden.
If I was allowed to dream up a space that was all my very own, this is probably what it’d look like:
And on the inside? Shelves brimming with the sweetest stacked vintage prints, neatly folded, just waiting to be used; a big wooden table to work on, a comfortable old-fashioned fabric covered chair, a beloved sewing machine. Shelves with new beautiful stock ready, waiting to be sold; draws with all the patterned papers and cardstock we could ever need; a blackboard for notes and reminders, an ipod dock and all my favourite songs, and the afternoon to work away uninterrupted...
Nat
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