Last week it was clear that I had to do something else to make my studio work for me the way I needed it to.
It’s a great space, and I couldn’t have carried out my latest projects without it… but it’s not living up to its potential. I need more from it. So I finally pulled my finger out and started making the studio I need.
There was one unintended consequence of last week’s wool washing: lots of steam turning into condensation and making its way into a portfolio leaning in a quiet corner.
On the surface it looked like a disaster, but the loss of some old work taught me something…
This week I started to connect a flimsy neck to the bulk of my woolen head of Medusa. Now that there’s a nose, two rudimentary eyes and recognisable lips, it seems right that there should be some kind of bodily grounding.
The challenge – ok, the entire thing is a challenge because I’ve never done this before, so let’s say the main challenge – this week is to use what clean wool I have as wisely as possible before I run out.
Recently I’ve been thinking about the sunk cost fallacy and how it relates to art and artists.
The sunk cost fallacy is (in my own boiled-down definition) a misconception that drives us to hold on to bad investments because of the amount we’ve already invested.
It was a bit of anyone’s guess as to how this week would work out, but I can see the floor again and the way ahead.