Believe it or not, the moving process is not yet over!  My former abode is still filled with artwork. Artists should not move.  Their workspaces should magically grow as required.   “Pop!” and a genie conjures up a warehouse with full spectrum lighting and large industrial sinks! 

My brain is mush, overwhelmed with various lists of tasks that have yet to be completed. Puzzle pieces will fall into place eventually but in the meantime, searching for things lost or mislaid is exhausting.

One of my friends keeps reminding me that artists are manufacturers that inevitably end up with a large inventory (unless of course they are the lucky ones who can live on sales through thick and thin).  

Art is way more than a luxury item. Some individuals acquire art to "match the drapes" or to invest, but my favourite clients fall in love with a piece.    

Commissions! It's hard to figure out what's inside a person's head, and problem is, it has to jive with what is in mine.  An almost impossible task if you ask me!  For this reason and many others,  I have incredible respect for graphic and interior designers. The good ones tend to be psychologists, outstanding marketers, as well as expert communicators and salespeople.

Distorted phallocentric logic
I generally make art that comes from the gut, something that is infused with passion. As my inventory grows, the possibility of forking out a significant amount of cash on a monthly basis for storage looms on the horizon.  I hope that Aristotle, Plato or Socrates are not giggling in the great blue yonder at my total lack of logic. During my Master studies, savvy profs introduced me to the term "phallocentric logic", a kind of thinking that is dominated by male attitudes. This is the logic of our great philosophers since  there weren't too many female thinkers running about then. So in the spirit of illogical thought, storage "it is" for now!  I will liquidate the day I move into a retirement home. 

Hiya sonny! Need art in your postage stamp room?