The Goddess of Procrastination

I am nearly finished tidying the stash room, err my Design Room. At least, I've vacated the bedroom tonight. As it grew darker, I finished by moving the last boxes from the bedroom to the stash, err, Design Room. And I'm shamed to admit the actual work took me one hour on Thursday, one hours on Friday, and about half a day today. Ergo, my new title.

All the yarns have been sorted, boxed and put away, except about a dozen cones that will sit on the floor until I use things and make space. Art supplies need sorting, and they will sit on the floor in corners until space under the tables become available. And in the immediate future, I will not have workable surface, because I will have "things" sitting on them; for the same reason the Kilk loom will reside in the living room further notice. The pictures need hanging, but I'm not sure if I'll hang the bulletin boards here, or in the studio. And if I plan to work in the Design Room at nights, I need better lights.

As to my second biggest problem, books and magazines, I need more ime. Over the coming summer we are reworking the office and the living room, where we have more books and bookshelves, so we have to pick a few days when both Ben and I feel like dusting, sorting and boxing. We've always had 2-3 times as much books as we have bookshelf space, so this is a known, familiar "issue" which need tackling with sensitivity or gusto or both.

I had planned to have the "rack" on the right side of the dresser, but it looked wrong in that corner so it went to the left side. Funny how most things went back to where they came from. This is partly why it took so long: I was thinking hard about why I procrastinated so long, (not counting the weeks that were too cold to paint,) and what the 4-months hooha was all about. I came up with no answer, but decided to see it as a kind of cleansing; I was shedding something of the old and moving elsewhere. I also wondered if I'm masking a deeper emotional problem by buying and stocking yarns and books, going Dr Phil on myself, but wasn't enlightened.

The yarn sorting was good. There wasn't much I'd forgotten, but I witnessed my navy-blue period, whites and naturals phase, and gray-to-black craze. I remember who gave me what and when, and I thought of them. I swear a couple of bags were from my mother's knitting (pre-1990!) stock I grew up with. Some were horribly coarse yarns I bought because they were the only skinny yarns available the time. For now I'm keeping everything.

My upstairs Design Room and downstairs Studio and their contents is more stream-lined, for want of a better term. Everything I need in order to weave in the Studio is downstairs. Everything I need to design, think or weave on the smaller looms are upstairs.

The last few years I dedicated the four-shaft jack loom for my cashmere scarves, but they will now be done on a smaller loom upstairs; it will now be dedicated to joy-weaving, using up my thicker yarns, experimenting with textures and colors and creating unique (i.e. not in series) pieces either for my future Etsy store, or to give to friends and charity. In fact, I was looking at Davison last night and was quite excited about these projects. It's been a while since I've woven just for the enjoyment, without too much thinking, so it will no doubt be good for the soul.

And since my Design Room is the only room in our house looking out to our garden, it will, hopefully, give me a great incentive to venture out into the wilderness and do something.

But tomorrow, I have the color course.