In the old suitcase that holds the snippets and scraps, I sift through, looking for the ones I have in mind. This time, it's left-over yardage in natural linen, and the remains of a pair of thrifted linen pants in butter yellow (yes, I've been known to purchase thrifted garments too big for me, just for the fabric - wink).
This, for the handmade project on a weekend afternoon.
I'm learning about it, this making. Learning about the creative pause. Learning that, because life is full, the pause is essential - even when there isn't much time (but, you already know about that).
I don't need a craft room, I've found, nor a museum of fabric, nor walls full of yarn or thread or ribbon. I need but a few simple things: A machine that doesn't fuss, a small collection of swoon-worthy fabric, with thread to match. I need basic tools, basic supplies, a handful of books. Some yarn for the current project, and maybe the next. I need an iron I love to hold, an ironing board I love to look at, and a place at which to sit.
Mostly, I just need to want to.
And I want to when it's simple, there within arm's reach. I want to when I don't have to dig or chase or shop for the one missing thing. I want to when I know it's not going to be a big project just to begin the project.
All this I had in mind when I designed a certain, significant place in our home*: my desk nook, with its flanking wardrobes. It's taken a bit of time and living to see how, exactly, it would function best, but after a purge and refresh in early January, I think it may be just about there.
I call it my studio, sometimes, this 2.5 x 3.5 foot space in our bedroom, because it's where things are made, where words are written, where ideas come to life (or wobble, then fall flat). It's where I try, then try again, and probably again.
My desk measures 19 x 42 inches, and has one drawer (for files, bills, etc). I've tucked my drafting board and large pads of drafting and sketch paper along its sides. At the back hang T-squares and on top sits an urn full of drafting tools. Journals, my weekly planner, and a candlestick are there, too. Current design projects are taped to the walls (which I've found so useful).
In the wardrobe to the right, I have a shelf that holds my sewing machine, sewing tools, notions, and the current sewing work-in-progress. In the wardrobe to the left, alongside the laundry machines, is my fabric cutting mat & ruler on one side, my ironing board on the other. The vintage iron sits on top.
Drawers in the shed keep my small, curated collection of fabric & yarn - some extra so I'll have what I need if the next project begins in a blink. My goal, though, is to only own what I'm in love with.
Simple things, in a simple way, for a simple life, that's all this is. The inspiration for my space I collected over the years from artists who've produced amazing things from humble places. Like illustrator & author Tasha Tudor, who painted in her lap while sitting in a wooden chair in the corner of her kitchen. Like Stephen King, who wrote novels on a manual typewriter that sat on a rickety table next to the furnace in the laundry room of their trailer house (from On Writing). Like Amanda Soule, who made a sewing corner in her dining room after their family filled up all the bedrooms.
Now? On those days when time opens up, I just reach for my sewing machine, place it on my desk, grab my current work from the shelf, and away I go, falling in where I left off, the ironing board behind me, the hot iron waiting. And, I'm probably listening to a book like this.
*Psst! I included the very same thing in the floor plans of the Shelter Collection!
Have you been looking for a tastefully designed, small floor plan that lives large? You may just find what you've been seeking in the newly-released Shelter Collection - four small house plans designed for gracious living in 900 -1400 square feet. Peruse the collection here.
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