This seems like an auspicious post to kick off the new blog/new website with.  I'm renovating the studio.  Its a big project.  It alternates between seeming entirely feasible and entirely overwhelming.  I want to have it done before baby arrives.

I've long wanted and wished to spend significant amounts of time in my studio.  Long railed against circumstance that conspires to keep me away from the loom and the sewing machine - self created circumstance for the most part, I realize!  Long wanted to play with cloth and fiber, making things to share with the world.  To play seriously, rather than dabble.

And half the battle is to create a space that I want to be in.  A space that is welcoming.  A space that is warm (Woodstove installed! Major hurdle overcome!  Check!). A space that is pleasing to the eye.  A space that is functional.  Organized.  Well-lit.  And ever since we moved in, the studio has only rarely felt this way.  So I'm committed to making it so. 

I envision a space where I can work, can make, can perhaps sell the creations of my hands.  A space for kids to grow up, making messes with paint and yarn and wood.  A space for kindred to gather - over a crafting table and a cup of coffee.

Some more before photos; as you can see, I was a fan of the hipstamatic app :)  I pretty intentionally did not take a panorama 'before' picture before I'd hauled everything out of the studio.  It had become a giant dumping ground for craft supplies, good intentions, theatre costume storage and more.  And if blogging allows you to curate a flattering persona - which it undoubtedly does - then I may as well choose to not record the worst publicly...


I'm currently pulling up the carpet.  Its a lot of work.  Did I say that already?  Maybe its just the pregnancy speaking... This carpet was the former owner's dream.  It is not mine.  I hate this carpet.  Hate is a strong word.  Its appropriate here.  I wanted to pull it up when we moved in, but we put it off.

Pulling it up is turning out to be a grosser job than I had anticipated.  We dogsat for a few months a couple of winters ago.  The dog, while sweet, and I did not get along.  I'd known the dog had peed and pooed all through the upstairs studio.  I'd cleaned it up.  But what I did not realize was how that pee had soaked down into the padding beneath the carpet in large yellow splotches and given rise to the slightly funky smell pervasive in the studio.  Now I know.

I've always preferred wood floors.  Now I'll have them!  Though the Alaskan milled birch planks I'm dreaming of may have to wait for the next round of renovations. In another few years.