Into the light

So when we moved into our radically-smaller apartment in SF, I stowed most of my craft stuff either under our bed in various boxes or in my closet. Once in awhile, when I had a good chunk of time, I'd set up my craft table, haul out all of my supplies, and get to work. Because the table was awkwardly placed in the middle of our (not very large) bedroom, I always felt like I needed to finish my projects the same day I started them and then tidy everything up and put it away.

It really cramped by style. And didn't make me want to create anything.

But a couple of weeks ago I rearranged one side of the room to make a permanent home for my craft table. It has made me so happy.

Now I don't have to wait for a Saturday to start a project. On a work night, even after the gym, I can sit down for 5 or 10 minutes and work on something and not worry about finishing it at the same time. Now my big papercutter has a home, nestled right up against my baby succulents (stolen from a neighbor's yard in Tempe and delivered to me in SF by Vic). It sits right in front of our big, currently rain-splattered window, allowing me to monitor the street scene (and there is one, trust me).

Side note: Please don't ever call me a SCRAPBOOKER. I don't scrapbook. Well, I guess I technically may have back in '97 after my Germany trip, but that was before scrapbooking became the gigantic industry it is now. I mainly used stationery, markers, and photos. Now, scrapbooking as a hobby seems to be about seeing how much scrapbooking junk you can buy at the closest big box craft retailer. And then throwing it all into a scrapbook you bought at that same big box craft retailer. It just doesn't seem very creative to me.

I do like to make things with SCRAPS of paper, but I try not to buy a lot of premade stuff. I prefer to reuse old cards, magazine covers, photos, and (best of all) vintage advertising. Lucky for me, every time she cleans out a room in her house, Pat gives me a stack of vintage stuff she has unearthed. I'm still trying to figure out what to do with that signed etching of Lyndon B. Johnson and the string-tied pile of 1950s get well cards.