Revamp
So I finally quit. An explosive negative blast chilled me out of my optimism. I cut myself loose into a future of possibilities.
I'm free again to dream dreams, see visions, and write. My office space at home reflects my focus on research. There are eight stacks of papers on the floor around my desk. I can swivel in my chair to find news items, clippings, historical snippets. Within arm's reach, two bookcases are crammed with theology and books on missions. I'll probably donate most of them to the university library when I'm done, like I did with my M.A. books. ("Best donation we've had!" enthused the librarian, after he'd shelved about 50 books on contemporary church culture.)
The office is not tidy, but it's highly functional. When we bring in the glass desktop, the light will reflect back into the room like it did at my jobsite. I'm bringing my glass desk home, along with the bright accessories that cheered me each morning.
On the other wall, the ink and paints stand ready. The print mangle works and I've done a few jobs, including ironing. The print machine waits in its box while I play with a few other kinds of marbling and monoprinting. Even in process, the joy of evolving space is great.
I'm stumped about what to do with the gift closet and two bookcases of art books and supplies in the meantime. Until May, a student lives in the space we cleared into my office. I plan to return things into that room the weekend she leaves! I can't afford time to pack things away and back. I use the books and art supplies, so they have to be at hand. A very short - 4 month - impasse.
An art room is messy and cluttered as projects unfold, and I contort myself trying to reach this brush, that book, the right paper. It would be nice for the floor to be tidy and the desk cleared. That happens briefly in the changing of the guard between papers. I have boxes of files gathering for the dissertation push as well. (How I look forward to that empty closet in May, where it can be stored!)
Coming home feels so good. The time is right to appreciate and fully use skills. To find contentment in creating a flow of work, walk down a clear path of idea to execution, be able to pound my fists on the desk or groan out new ideas, knowing they will emerge without blocking or minimizing. Ah... my heart is starting to sing again. Feb. 5 will be here before I know it.
I'm free again to dream dreams, see visions, and write. My office space at home reflects my focus on research. There are eight stacks of papers on the floor around my desk. I can swivel in my chair to find news items, clippings, historical snippets. Within arm's reach, two bookcases are crammed with theology and books on missions. I'll probably donate most of them to the university library when I'm done, like I did with my M.A. books. ("Best donation we've had!" enthused the librarian, after he'd shelved about 50 books on contemporary church culture.)
The office is not tidy, but it's highly functional. When we bring in the glass desktop, the light will reflect back into the room like it did at my jobsite. I'm bringing my glass desk home, along with the bright accessories that cheered me each morning.
On the other wall, the ink and paints stand ready. The print mangle works and I've done a few jobs, including ironing. The print machine waits in its box while I play with a few other kinds of marbling and monoprinting. Even in process, the joy of evolving space is great.
I'm stumped about what to do with the gift closet and two bookcases of art books and supplies in the meantime. Until May, a student lives in the space we cleared into my office. I plan to return things into that room the weekend she leaves! I can't afford time to pack things away and back. I use the books and art supplies, so they have to be at hand. A very short - 4 month - impasse.
An art room is messy and cluttered as projects unfold, and I contort myself trying to reach this brush, that book, the right paper. It would be nice for the floor to be tidy and the desk cleared. That happens briefly in the changing of the guard between papers. I have boxes of files gathering for the dissertation push as well. (How I look forward to that empty closet in May, where it can be stored!)
Coming home feels so good. The time is right to appreciate and fully use skills. To find contentment in creating a flow of work, walk down a clear path of idea to execution, be able to pound my fists on the desk or groan out new ideas, knowing they will emerge without blocking or minimizing. Ah... my heart is starting to sing again. Feb. 5 will be here before I know it.
