I could've taken all my houseplants outside as soon as it got warm enough for them—July, say—but usually this only occurs to me when the leaves start to turn, and I realize I'd better get cracking, if I want to do the messy chores of dividing, repotting, and the like outdoors, where it's easy to water, spray off insect pests (my dwarf umbrella plant has suffered from scale infestation pretty much from the get-go) and the like. Clearing all the plants in the studio set off a long-delayed attempt (still ongoing) to actually clean the place up (something I usually try to do around St Patrick's Day...obviously, I'm a little behind, this year).
Bead curtain strand of no particular excitement. Amber beads, active section roughly 5’, 78" overall, including leader. Lampwork, other glass beads, tigertail, basemetal crimps, artist forged hook of copper wire.
Bead curtain beads tend to be practice for techniques I'm trying to ramp up[1] and they pile up in the trays I reserve for them until I have enough to string up five 5’ (the height of my window). Those trays live on the bottom shelf of a table I use as a plant stand, & with all the plants gone, looked very untidy. But if I strung up the large focals, the trays would then would stack neatly & could be stuffed into a jewelry case, and tidied out of sight.
So there you have it, art inspired by the need to clean. This is why it can take weeks to tidy the studio, there are all these mini-tasks that have to be cleared out first. Next up: all those glass shorts...
[1]Right now, I have a commission for a scarf clip with a large oval, so there are a couple of those, which are the most recently made focals. At one time I was practicing pressed lentils with dichro, obviously; another, glass crosses—probably for rosaries. The hideous vessel was almost certainly a failed attempt to recreate the focal for my first mouse, which finally bit the dust when someone dropped my car keys one time too many. The equally hideous pixie is, I believe, a very old bead when I was still fairly new to lampworking, i.e. 20 odd years ago...
Unless otherwise noted, text, image and objects depicted therein copyright 1996--present sylvus tarn.
Sylvus Tarn