when studios attack

Its come to my attention that some of the newcomers to the blog (welcome all!) think that my time in the studio is all zen and chanting and perfect success.

Oh my dears, you couldn't be more wrong...

While there has been an incredible streak of productivity lately, its only because I'm doing things that I know work. In other words, I'm not experimenting or trying to bend some new technique or project to my will. I've even come to some kind of strange understanding with my sewing machine (leaving the hammer resting next to it may have finally done the trick. I say good behavior through intimidation is appropriate when it comes to machinery.)

But normally there is quite a chaotic dance that happens in there during those times and since they are usually pretty entertaining, I post them here when the do occur.

So I thought I'd prove it by re-publishing this post.

Its a fine example of what happens when studios attack.

**Since the post below was published, I have since made good friends with Timtex. We get along swimmingly now and I think its quite a fine product. The problem that day clearly lied with my strange mood and quite possibly a full moon.

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Thursday March 4, 2010

i couldn't make this stuff up if i tried...

The weather hit 43 degrees today. May not sound glamorous to those of you on the west coast but around here? That's shorts and tank top weather. (I kid you not.)

I dragged Dooley down the street (little man is a little out of shape and getting to be mature so I let him set the pace and distance now) and then decided to go into the studio. Popped open the windows, let the plants soak in the fresh air and then just sort of stood there.

I've got plenty of stuff in progress but for whatever reason, I totally lacked motivation today. But with two deadlines at the end of the month, I figured I shouldn't waste a day and decided to force myself to work on something. The victim I chose was the measly beginnings of the fabric box challenge that Mary issued for the fiber art group we belong to.

I had a grand idea that I began pulling together a couple of days ago (if you can count piling stuff on my work table a beginning). I wanted to add (notice the use of past tense in this paragraph) quite a bit of handwork so it really was important for me to get the base done.

What happened next can only be compared to an I Love Lucy episode.

1. I recently opted to get rid of the large TV in my studio and go with a portable DVD player instead. It's a huge space saver and I can plop it down on any surface that's available. Today felt like a Lord of the Rings day (yes I am a geek and proud of it) so I popped in The Fellowship of the Ring, positioned the player on my work table in front of me and set about my business.

2. I don't work much with Timtex. But I like working out puzzles and got it into my head that the walls of my box needed to be made from this. Considering what I do for a living, tackling stiff interfacing shouldn't be a problem. (You see where this is heading, right?)

3. Timtex hates me.

4. I pinned it, ironed it, cussed at it but it did not want to have anything to do with me. I swear it was like trying to give a cat a bath. The problem? Who knows..the stupid stuff wouldn't cooperate and has now been dubbed a product of the devil.

5. I pitched it across the room (I'm not ashamed to admit this) and my aim made perfect precise direct contact with the most disgusting cup of water on the planet. I did some painting a few days ago and forgot to wash out the brush cup. The cup - and all its stinky wet content - tipped over in perfect synchronization in the direction of the DVD player and sewing machine.

6. Luckily my slob habits of never cleaning up my work table came in handy and the water had to work hard to spread across the table. Just as it got close to the DVD player, the characters in the movie called Ringwraiths (link provided for the non-geeky) began to screech at the top of their lungs. The irony of this sent me into a hysterical laughing fit as I tried to scoop up the screaming movie and mop up the portion of the spill speeding toward my sewing machine.

7. As I stepped backward, I knocked over the container of beads I'd been fussing with the night before. Then as I turned to survey the damage, my foot made direct contact with the extra long sewing needles I've become so fond of lately (Not so fond of them anymore. I'll spare you the details. Don't ask me why they were on the floor.)

8. Aaaaaaaaannnnnddd...cue the doorbell. The Salvation Army was scheduled to come by and pick up some of the fruits of the spring cleaning I've been doing lately but I found myself a bit engaged when they finally came a-knocking: water threatening to murder the electronics on my work table, screaming movie in my hand, needle in my foot and beads all over the floor threatening to take me down should I even consider breathing.

Yeah. Attractive.

I think I actually screamed "I'll be right down" toward the front window but I'm not sure they could hear me over Dooley doing his duty of sounding like a rabid pack of wild animals (he is nothing if not defensive).

Luckily the Salvation Army is a patient lot and I got downstairs before they took off. After they left I decided the studio was not a good place to be.

This kind of thing has happened before - not to this extent - when I've not been totally into working on something. I swear the projects have a sixth sense about these kind of things and can't resist taunting me.

I may do battle again tomorrow but I feel properly defeated at the moment and am not feeling any affection at all toward the mess I still have to clean up in the studio. (I gave up after the water was properly contained.)

Tonight I hang out with Dooley dog and watch Project Runway. The trauma that the contestants go through should make me feel better...