The studio is inching ever closer to being properly usable. Our movers helpfully left our vacuum at the old house, so after we go back and get the last of our stuff this weekend I can vacuum all the dust and pencil shavings out of my flat file and get it organized. If the studio ever strikes me as looking good enough to take a picture of, I will, but for now it's still kind of a travesty.
I did, however, actually sit in my studio at the table and paint last night. Not at the dining room table, or on my lap somewhere else, but really and truly in the studio. I'm not even sure how long I was there--at least a few hours--but it felt like no time at all. When we chose this house, I was hoping the studio would be a place I would feel productive. So far, even with a bit of clutter still seeking a permanent home, it does. My old studio room was so small as to be almost unusable once I had all my supplies in it. I would end up doing prep work in there and then bring my actual work out to the kitchen table. It's a lot easier to get distracted out in the main part of the house.
Now I have a room with everything in it, including my easel and table set up plus the flat file (which takes up a fair amount of real estate on the floor) and I can still walk around everything. I feel pretty spoiled.