The second room needs to be cleared out. First, we need to get rid of that monster of a TV unless Chris decides to leave it there permanently. Then there’s the bike. I can probably shove it into a corner. *sigh* Perhaps I should have had my hubby buy me one of those fold-able bikes that are so much easier to ride. Third, should the man-fridge stay there or not? It seems to be better if it were more accessible, like if it’s in the living room.
I badly need a studio. Right now, I’m working on a sketch of Shelby with my massive easel by the bed. My tools are close by — the little, counter-height table is crammed with my laptop, a mug stuffed with pencils, a few charcoal sticks, a kneaded eraser, a regular eraser, brushes for smudging. As for me, my bum is parked on the bed itself and I’m trying to ignore the fact that I’m losing circulation in my legs. Our bedroom is tiny and most of the free space is dominated by the computer table.
I need my own space.
I need the well-lighted room.
I need a place where I won’t drop bits of charcoal on my lovely, deep red sheets.
Basically, I need office space. This art thing is not just a hobby, this is also my second job. The job that I like to do after my day job that pays the bills. Granted, I am just starting so it’s not like I’m earning loads of money from it but everyone has to start somewhere. Hell, even McDonald’s had humble beginnings.
I have my equipment, a box full of flashy fuchsia, black and gold business cards, and a mind full of so-called talent that I inherited from my Dad. So please help me earn some moolah or just simply like this page:
What am I working on right at this moment? (Aside from writing this post, of course.) Shelby:
I’m not even half done. Hell, I’m not even 1/4 done! But it’s not bad for someone who suffered from a 10-year artist’s block.