As I go back and forth between my design studio and my art studio there is a persistent feeling in the back of my mind. The voice in my head gets louder and louder until I finally stop and notice. “This place is a fargin mess!” it says.
Eventually, it will cloud my mind and my ability to think straight. It has already begun to slow me down. When I move something, something else falls over. I can’t find my sewing sheers because they are buried under mounds of fabric.
I am surprised I can still carry a coherent conversation with myself.
Sooner or later I am going to have to commit a weekend to cleaning this stuff up instead of making stuff up.
The voice in my head stomps it’s foot and asks “WHEN?!” I set down my coffee, turn up the music and mutter to myself
” not today”