The zone

After yesterday’s hand in and oddly tense rest of the day, I’ve dedicated (some
of) today to starting to clean and hoover the back room. It’s hardly going to be kept a secret - my mum uses it as the laundry management HQ and is in there more than I, but its always been so wedged with stuff it feels more cave like.

I’m working from the french doors outwards, setting up a small ‘studio’ where I can use oil paints without fear of fumes and funny smelling oil: both doors open means there’s a very nice breeze. This part has been hoovered and ‘organised’ (rearranged and stacked slightly more neatly) and I have found many treasures from my parents and family including: wedding photos from Mum and Dad & from who I think may be Granny and Grandpa as well as manual clippers and passports. It’s all been carefully tucked away and sorted so nothing will get damaged (as well as being lightly dusted).

With everything shifted around just enough, I set up a little table with my paints and the easel, as well as canvases. Unfortunately I couldn’t get much further, the dust made everything itch!