Sometimes, no matter how much progress you’ve made or how strong your intentions are, you get stuck.
That’s happened many, many times throughout this process. Sometimes one thing worked, sometimes another.
This time, I simply needed another set of eyes.
Not just anybody, though. I wanted Carol. Or somebody like Carol.
Carol is an artist, too. She is kind, yet insightful and strong. She understands that some items aren’t really junk (though they might look like it to non-artist types.) She’s a good listener. She’s willing to work, if that’s what is needed.
I told her how far I’d gotten, what my goals were, and where I was stuck. She identified three key areas I could think about and act on.
1) I need work space.
I tend to fill up work space with stuff that isn’t work. Sounds stupid, but that’s what I do.
For example, my desk has all my supply catalogs on it. That makes for easy access. But it also means I can’t use my desk for writing. Was there somewhere else to put those catalogs where they’ll be accessible, but not taking up work space? Yes! I’m going to rearrange some shelves (and yes, move more books upstairs) to find a new spot for them.
Then I talked about other work spaces I’d inadvertently invaded with “stuff”. I set up nice display areas for last year’s open studios. But then I never dismantled them. Some display is desirable–I love it, and it makes the studio interesting. But if that has taken over, then no work can get done.
And I never even put stuff away from last year’s big retail show before I had to start preparing for this year’s show.
To be fair, that was the year o’ surgeries. I couldn’t put all that stuff away. Berating myself for it was unfair, and unhelpful. I was beating myself up emotionally for being messy. For buying art supplies I ended up not using. For giving so much stuff away without trying to recoup my investment.
Which brings me to Carol’s next insight:
2) I need to forgive myself.
Carol’s mantra was simple: “That was then. This is now.”
That’s who I was then. This is who I am now. That’s what I thought would work then. This is what I need to do now. I was doing okay, and now I could do better.
The actual organization of the studio was good. The layers were okay. It was piling on top of the layers that was getting me into trouble.
Guilt wasn’t working. So I set the guilt aside.
It helped. Immensely.
3) Group stuff together.
As I empty storage containers, set them aside in one corner. As I come across items that can go upstairs, group them in a spot for easy transport.
This was so simplistic, I nearly sneered. But it worked.
At first glance, we’d made little progress in our barn attic. (This space is where all my booth stuff is stored, and it’s the final repository for our house stuff, too.)
Actually we’d made huge progress. But all the clear boxes I’d bought/gathered for organizing were scattered throughout the space, making it look as if everything was still strewn around.
Once I’d grouped those in a single pile off to one side, the floor space really opened up. And I could tell I’d made a huge difference up there.
I’m using this same principle on my studio, starting today. Already I feel upbeat and hopeful that this really will get done.
So if you get really stuck, enlist the aid of someone who can get your over the hump. Someone who will not judge, someone with sensitivity and strength. Someone who really wants to see you get to that next step.
Or someone with a truck.
Tomorrow’s post will address why I’ve decided over and over not to sell most of this stuff. It’s a good decision for me, and maybe it will work for you, too.