My Writing Studio

As a writer, I think WHERE you write is super important.  For instance, I find that I cannot write well when I'm seated at the kitchen table, between my two children who are throwing chicken nuggets at one another.  For whatever reason, I find this distracting.  Go figure.

So instead, I write in my studio.  I call it my 'studio' because, up until 4 months ago, I spent the majority of my time painting.  (Well, let's be honest here, I spent the majority of my time eating and watching TV.)  But when I wasn't eating chocolate or watching reruns of Psych, I was painting.  In the back room of the house.  AKA the 'studio'.

But since my life has changed a bit and I now find myself reading and writing every minute of the day (wow, that's almost not an exaggeration) my 'studio' has become less of an artist's free-for-all and more of a writer's workshop.

So anyway, I have this great studio that my awesome husband made for me and it's so wonderful and inspiring but...I'm messy.  :(

I can't deny it. "Messy" just comes with my personality.  I'm loud.  I'm artsy.  I draw tattoos on people with sharpies.  I let my kids throw food and color on the walls....I'm the epitome of "mess".  Here is a picture of my studio earlier this afternoon:

Pretty wrecked, eh?  Did you notice the dead plant on the piano bench?  *sigh*  Yeah.  I fail at gardening.  You'll


notice there's a suitcase on the white chair.  Why, you ask?  I have no idea. The studio is where I put things when I'm too lazy to walk all the way to wherever they belong.   Honestly, I don't even know where the suitcase belongs.  The garage, maybe?  The attic? I have no clue.  That's how truly unorganized I am.  So my objective today was to clean this room. See below. :)

Ah, much better.  I give it 2...3 days tops before it returns to its normal state of messiness.  

Because I fail at cleaning. 

And putting away suitcases.  

(You can't see it, but right now that black suitcase is actually crammed in the studio closet. Viola!  No more suitcase.)