A Nuclear Art Disaster

Why does creating art thereby require one to simultaneously create the world's biggest mess? I'm not sure why the two must travel hand-in-hand, but they do.

I'm really trying to be diligent about unpacking this time... really, I am. I've made it my goal to finish putting *ALL* of my art supplies, including the little odds and ends I don't know what to do with, away by the end of this week. So far, I've been on pace to reach this goal.

Today I decided I needed to finish my fabric triptych from Kristin Steiner's class. I'm 75 percent there, mind you. It wouldn't seem that I would need to create a nuclear art explosion to accomplish this. But explode I have. Ribbons and fibers are tumbling out of their jars and onto the floor. Floss, thread, and an assortment of needles now grace three separate rooms. The sewing maching, iron, ironing board, and rotary cutting tools are all out. Drawers are open. Various patterned papers are strewn about the floor. Embellishments are piled here and there. Buttons are sprinkled over everything. Fabrics are pouring out of their formerly neat little cabinets. I think somewhere down deep is the notion that I must *SEE* everything I own in order to create. Where did this idea come from?

And I won't even go into the paint mess that is happening simultaneously in several other parts of the house. If the disarray is any sort of an indicator of the quality of the art, then at least I'm well on my way to being wonderful!