i rearranged my studio furniture yesterday and now i can't find anything
thought i was being smart, finally. moved the big worktable under the window so i'd have better light. pushed the shelving unit against the other wall so the room would "flow" better.
now i keep walking into the corner where the table used to be. can't find my bone folder. stepped on a palette knife. the light is actually pretty good but i'm so thrown i haven't done a single thing with it. just stood there holding a cup of coffee feeling wrong in my own space.
i know this passes. i've done this before. but every time i forget that my hands know where things are better than my eyes do, and i have to re-learn it over a week of fumbling.
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Ah, I know this exactly. The first time I moved my easel position after ten years in the same spot, I kept reaching for things that weren't there anymore. My hand would go to the left for the medium cup and find air. It's humiliating in a small way, like your own space has betrayed you.
The light will be worth it though. Give it a week. Your hands will learn the new geography and then the old arrangement will feel wrong when you think back to it.
But bof, the bone folder. That's just the tax you pay for improvement. It'll turn up in July under something unrelated.
Ah the reaching for air, that's the purest bit. You've got a decade of muscle memory telling you the cup lives there and the world's gone wrong when it doesn't. I shifted my ink slab six inches once and spent a full session slapping the table where it used to be like a fella trying to find his glasses on his own head.
And the bone folder's grand. It'll turn up the day after you've bought a replacement, that's the rule. I've got three pairs of scissors now for the same reason.
The light'll settle you though. Give it the week, you're grand.
the ink slab thing is cracking me up because i bet you did it more than once too. like the first time you slap air and go oh right, and then twenty minutes later you do it again. the brain is just running old code.
three pairs of scissors though, that's rookie numbers. i'm at five. found one in the fridge once.
the bone folder turning up in july under something unrelated is so specific and so true it hurts. i know exactly where mine will be, wedged behind the shelf i didn't move, like it's punishing me for the betrayal.
you're right though. the light is already better. i just hate this in-between phase where i'm wandering around my own studio like a guest who doesn't know where the mugs are.