The junk on my desk just keeps closing in on me so that I can hardly find room to work. Every so often I have to scrape everything back to the edges so I can lay my journal down to write. I've noticed the same thing happens in the studio too. The bottles and jars of paint and the brushes creep closer and closer until I realize I am completely hemmed in and can hardly move. So I have to crack the whip and push everything back to the edges.
I looked out the studio door this morning and saw my little tulips blown sideways by the wind and rain. That's Easter in Oregon. I hope the sun is shining where you are.
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