For the most part, I don’t mind my craft space being a bit messy. I try to keep the rest of the house reasonably clean and tidy, although I’m never going to be winning prizes for minimalism, but my little room upstairs can fill up with lots of little projects in the making, things that I’ve pulled out for ideas that are still floating around my mind, and things that I’ve moved out of other rooms to make them look tidier without really having anywhere to put them.
I reached the tipping point last week and since then I’ve spent odd moments and scraps of evenings culling and rearranging and I think all I need now is a whizz over the floor with the hoover and I’m done. The desk is clear and polished, my pens and scissors are lined up in the letter rack and I corralled all of my reels of thread from box, drawer and floor, into my pretty blue and white papier mache bowl to sit on the windowsill.
My fabric is in one cupboard, the yarn in another double cupboard, and my books and magazines are stacked and stashed on the shelves. I even cleaned the windows in time to see the moon the colour of clotted cream rising through the clouds and the trees like the start of every cheesy horror film.
So now there are no excuses, nothing left to use to procrastinate. I have space, materials, and occasionally time, it’s time to see if I can turn some of my crazy ideas into reality.