It’s one thing when your nose is to the grindstone, all else is insignificant so long as your task at hand is completable. With a deadline annexed to your works, only the sawdust on the floor that sticks to the soles of your feet becomes an annoyance in the flow of work. Time constraints released, and suddenly replete with time, I’ve struggled over the past few days to reorder the studio into a more creative environment… one where the miter saw wasn’t such an eyesore and a distraction. A plateau that sustains working energy rather than nullify the inner landscape or the outer field of stimulus.
I think it is a mimicry of making a work. Manipulating elements within a space to form a composition that serves the purpose of the work. I enjoy the three-dimensional act of rearrangement and space-editing as a meditative precursor, an overture, to placing oneself into the two-dimensional realm.