|The view from upstairs in my studio.|
So then I got to accepting the idea. And do you know what really made me accept it? My electric jug died. Isn't it weird how a little thing like that can change your perception? My jug (or kettle if you like) was given to me when I moved into the studio and I realised I'd need to make cups of tea. Mathea, a fellow textile artist, gave me her spare one from when she had a studio.
It started playing up right around the time I got the news. I'd switch it on and it wouldn't go. I'd jiggle the connections and it would come right. It got worse and worse and it got me realising how maybe the jug was done. And that got me thinking about how maybe I was done. Maybe this was a sign that all good things come to an end and it was time for something new.
I've had fun in the studio and gallery. I've enjoyed curating exhibitions. I've met wonderful people at my weekly stitch and bitch sessions. And I've learnt so, so much. But it's time to move on. Now that I'm over the disappointment, I'm really looking forward to having a break from the gallery work and being able to concentrate solely on my artwork.
|Memories of Flight by Charlotte Scott|
And I've found a new studio space too! More on that in my next post.