Winter's day, afternoon

My desk, in the studio- on a Sunday Winter's Afternoon

It's Sunday afternoon, raining and cold, dark early.  I just got off the phone with Mother- one of our brief conversations for neither one of us can here- she is the only person just about that I talk on the phone with, and that is more to hear her voice than anything.  Just that little bit is a comfort.  

Today I have been drifting, working, the internet is slower- much- than it should be and I don't know why.  It took me a considerable amount of extra time to finish with my online student work, and with checking Charles's casting for the week, but that was ok.  Sometimes it is nice to move slow.  Which is funny because even slow, the internet now is a kabillion times faster than back when it was blue, and we dialed up on phone lines.  And I remember the skill of balancing the wait with having something hands on to do- in this case my sketchbook- to occupy the time while the pages load.  (It's the images the students post- just one uncompressed image- and there is always one- slows down the whole process).  I have graded and napped, drew and painted today, finished a little wooden box I was working on (well, finished for the moment at least), watched some TV with the manz, did the laundry, cleaned the kitchen, went to the shop and basically had a nice quiet day.  I did not write on fashion, though I did do some research, and will do some reading tonight.  I get weird about projects sometimes- the 'structured procrastination' thing- but I have time blocked out for it tomorrow and will get to it then.

In the meantime, let's have a look at the desk.  I've posted photos of it before- I never tire of my desk and studio.  I love the little stained glass lamp, the tin decoupaged by Mother long ago, the picture with carefully arranged dried flowers that Wanda gave me. Other treasures, my sketchbook and new smart phone (hooray for texting!) my mug of tea.  That's how you really know that it is winter around here- when I start making tea. I love tea, mind you, iced with lemon in the summer, Southern sweet tea on the porch.  I love hot tea as well, nothing is better when you are sad or sick or wanting to feel cozy... but I am usually to lazy to make it.  And it is a winter drink.  My beloved Mr. Owens usually has a cup ready when I get home from school, and I do make it for myself when I get the urge.  It must have sugar, and milk, or- if I am wanting a treat- a splash of Old Crow without the milk.  Warms the soul, like the colored lampshades and stained glass windows, the old leather desk and the smell of beeswax as the crockpot cools down.  I confess being in love with this room- my favorite in the house- full of books and paints, comfy old leather chairs and baskets of papers.  It is a place to dream and make, to write and draw and think.  It's home.