I moved the studio. again.

The dining room studio became unbearable. Too much big furniture and I kept tripping over my boxes of paint trying to avoid bumping into the chandelier. My mom told me a story years ago that comes to mind every now and then. Supposedly the reason no one knew my grandmother's real age was because she didn't have a birth certificate. Reason being, was that when her mother died, her sister threw everything out in the backyard and burned it. I've always had a mental image of a bonfire with errant pieces of furniture in a pyre. I don't know exactly how true that story is or to what degree, but it wouldn't surprise me. I think about this often. Like today, for instance, I thought about that story about 5 times. Maybe more.

The den has been fairly barren for a month or so, but it's the first room you walk into and it has terrible light. I never considered it as a studio alternative, but after one week in the dining room chaos, I'm a convert. On the bright side, it's has a ledge around the perimeter so it's a natural for clamp lights. Problem solved. I keep telling myself it's only a winter studio. I can look into a gas forced furnace for the garage next year. I rolled my palette table out of the garage and around to the front door, and into it's new temporary winter home, the den studio. The den studio is classical 50's- built in bookcases, veneer paneled walls and a red linoleum floor. The palette table is my better half. It feels good to be reunited with it. The den has also been the lair of Otto for the last 8 years. Unfortunately because he eats anything that's not locked down and wrapped in steel, for his own safety, he will not have studio privileges when I am not around.

It was super wet, cold and rainy today. I ran when there was a break in the weather.
2 miles, @ roughly 11:00 a mile.