Saturday, December 4, 2010
Being a "Believe it when I see it" kind of person (I'll believe in God when I can look him in the eye and tell him that I think he's Quite A Bastard), I'm starting to feel reluctant to pack any more until I get word from the bank that the closing is actually going to happen. According to the owner, everything is ready to go -- we're just waiting for the phone to ring.
No matter. It gives me time to work on my scrapbook, which is coming along nicely. The paper inserts between the pages that started out as a design element have now become a necessity just to hold the book together; it was never made for this kind of abuse, and a while ago I had to split the spine open in order to allow for expansion. I'll re-bind it with cloth tape when all the work is done.
Last night I finished blackening all the pages with India ink. I'll continue making the pages fast and laying down a basic design, but for now I've run out of prints! -- And I'm not ordering more until until I have a new mailing address!
Once I get into the All-New, All Different DuckHaus, I have decided that one of the upstairs bedrooms will become a studio. Oh, it'll still have a bed in it. But any overnight guests will have to put up with my drawing table, a small stand for drawing and art supplies, a stack of magazines and other things that I cut up for scraps, and some of my own comic art on the walls. Maybe quite a lot of it.
In fact I have a plan for all of the rooms, subject to change and revision of course. I certainly have enough furniture to fill the place! -- Just not enough shelving.
Here's a question you could maybe help me out with. I have a large sofa and a small one that are a matching set, but the large one has been badly mauled by about fifteen generations of cats and needs to kept covered to look halfway presentable. Do I keep it because it goes with the little one, or take a different sofa from another room that is in much better shape, somewhat larger, but in no way matches the little one?
Ah, decisions, decisions. . .