Being me

I've recently hit a creative spurt. I mean spurt because that is what I do. I have my things all over the place. My art room was not able to contain my creativity. It was stifling it. I gave the space to my model making son to use and I moved my operation to the dining table and living room. My husband is being very forgiving. 

The table is covered with several different projects going at once. I cannot have just one at a time. I don't work like that. It's an all or nothing scenario. The table at this moment has balsam wood coated in plaster and pastel dust drying, 10 new canvas still in wrappers, open glitter containers, glue, water colors, sealants, and paper. I even bought some old photos and rare antique postcards to use in a couple projects. Next to all that is a box of seeds for my outdoor adventures. 

The floor leading to the living room has glitter wedged into all the cracks of the wood floor. My husband stated tonight, " it looks like a glitter bomb went off in here." We'll, sort of, a box of mixed glitter fell off the shelf. I must have put them on top of the masks I already made. 

The living room has a big ass easel with an equally big ass canvas of a monk being painted on it. The foot stool has become my paint tray; all the tubes lying there in a row with the colors staring back at me. A step stool flanks the other side of the easel to hold the brushes, jar of water, and the iPad so I can look at the photo and listen to music. The large black kitchen chair is in front of the easel ready for when my next inspiration flashes and needs to be applied. 

It's quite honestly a mess but I'm having a blast. I am feeling so happy and so creative and so inspired and I have no one but myself to thank. It really feels good.

My husband is a fucking saint. He deserves my love, totally. 

I also can't wait to see all these projects complete and begin more! 

I think I'm back :)