Atelier? Chick Corner? A little of both, please.

Dear friends,

I spent a good part of Saturday unpacking art and craft supplies and making a workspace for myself.

In our former home, we had a large and light-filled sunroom with a southern exposure. I co-opted half the room as a crafting area and gave it a formal name — the Magpie Dream Studio (Magpie, after my former blog moniker). I miss it.

In our new home, I’ve spent 10 months pondering where to set up shop. Should I decamp in our basement (spacious, and the mess is hidden)? In the laundry room (huge, with oodles of built-in cabinetry and a desk)? In the back-entry alcove (tucked away, perfect size for a desk, and near a large pantry)?

As it turns out, the basement got filled fast thanks to Mr. Mom’s workbench and the kids’ ping pong table. He also co-opted the laundry room. I know it sounds like a strange place for him to hang-out, but our laundry room is a gigantic space. It’s filled with light, and because of the built-in desk, it’s a perfect place for our large iMac computer. With both a computer and washing machines handy, the laundry room has become Mr. Mom’s Man Cave. And the back-entry alcove — my final choice for a crafting space — has been consumed with jackets and shoes and boots and bags. It’s just waiting for me to hire a carpenter to build a mud-room type bench and cabinets.

So every single space I contemplated has been otherwise occupied. There was only one other possible location — an alcove in our master bedroom. It wasn’t really on my list because — I don’t know — it just seemed like a mixed metaphor, of sorts.  But, upon further reflection, the idea began to grow on me.

Our bedroom is plenty large enough. Like the rest of the house, it’s light and bright, and the alcove is near a large window. I have an easy chair and side table near a television in our bedroom, which is situated right by the alcove, so I could go back and forth between my new crafting corner and my reading/TV corner. And, best of all, it’s one of the quietest spots in the house. All it would take is some shuffling of furniture.

I started by moving a bookcase that had been nestled in the alcove to another location in our home. Then I scavenged a work table (my grandmother’s antique oak table from my former Dream Studio), a shelf, a slip-covered chair, a pin board, and a lamp from other rooms — and I was almost in business.

Here’s what it looked like before I got organized.

Photo by Instagram, 1977 filter

That stack of family photos had been hanging on the wall above the bookcase before I moved it. I took them down to make room for the new set-up, not sure what I’d ultimately do with them. But once I got everything organized, I realized they’d look just fine (and provide inspiration) hung salon-style back where they began.

It looks like this now:

Here’s another view:

The green shelf is part of a two-piece bookcase that’s been unused since we moved. It makes a perfect cubby for organizing things.

Remember my friend Maridel, the collage artist I introduced you to in this post?  Here’s a couple of shots of her creations, strategically placed to inspire me.

Did you know that shells and stones . . .

and tiny vases could be such lovely works of art?

I’m itching to make my own, along with a collaged greeting card series I’ve got percolating in my brain.

After almost a year on hiatus, I’ve got just the place I need to get creative. Not as large as the space I was used to, but quite lovely nonetheless.

With gratitude {for a quiet place to dream},

Joan, who must leave this post to run to the kitchen, her other dream studio, where some peaches are calling out to be made into pie

A wondrous glimpse inside.

Dear friends,

I arrived home later than usual Thursday night and here’s what I found waiting for me on my desk:

Photo by Instagram

Is there anything that can make a girl’s heart skip a beat like a surprise package in the mail?

I removed the brown paper and it looked like this:

Photo by Instagram, X-Pro II filter

A wrapped gift and a handwritten note on February 2nd for no apparent reason? Be still my heart!

Turns out, it was an early Valentine. From my pen pal, Maridel. You’ve read Maridel’s comments on this space, no doubt. She’s a regular reader and a friend and a former colleague and a pen pal.

See that lovely hand-written note she sent? I get them all the time. I try to send a few, too, but she has me beat on the exchange rate.

Maridel and I worked together for many years. When she left our organization a few years ago, I was so traumatized that I wrote a short verse about how much I would miss her. I decopauged the verse, along with several clipped images, on the inside of a small, lidded jar and gave it to her.

Before you ooh and ahh, it was not my idea. (I’m not that clever.) It was an homage to my departing friend, who is both a stellar writer and an even more accomplished collage artist. I had long been a fan of her work, both her one-dimensional and her three-dimensional collages. We had enjoyed long talks about our mutual interest in three-dimensional pieces, especially those with surprises (like pictures or verse on the insides or bottoms of boxes or other containers), and the great fun to be had in haunting flea markets and junk stores in search of paper ephemera and found objects.

Whereas my gift to her was a one-off, Maridel (who’s a real artist) continues to create and to send me tiny surprises. I have two collaged seashells and a collaged stone from her scattered about my home, earlier treasures that arrived by U.S. mail.

Bet you’re wondering what was in the box, huh? Wait until you see it! It was inspired by what she called my “dress reveries” on this blog.

It is so full of visual delights, I literally gasped when I opened it.

If you’re not familiar with collage as an artistic medium or have never tried it yourself, think of this: every single one of those tiny images had to be hand cut and applied.

Collage is a medium for the patient artist, clearly. (Oy! All that cutting!)  Maridel’s creations are tiny puzzles that I love to observe and decipher.

And this most recent one is clearly a reflection of Joan-Marie . . . the images of fashion and flowers and home are so me.

And if I know Maridel, those three-dimensional petals on the side of the vase are also the work of her hand. I’m betting they are found objects she painted and reappropriated for this piece.

I really don’t have the talent with words to express my delight and wonder and awe at this gift. I think about how much thought and time my friend gave to finding and selecting the images. And to trimming them just so. And to positioning them just right. And to balancing color and texture and shape into a pleasing visual harmony. And to adding the three-dimensional petals as a final embellishment and touch of verve.

I think of all of that, and then I think she wrapped it up and mailed it to me, setting free her miniature work of art to bring beauty and love into the life of another.

And then I think . . . wow.

With gratitude {for dear friends and generous expressions of their hearts},

Joan, who packed up her collage supplies when she moved 10 months ago and thinks she just might have to get back in business (and who also thinks she may not sleep well until she finds an orange Chanel-esque suit in her size, just like the one on the vase)