Studio envy

I visited the Kay Nguyen's studio this past week.  Kay is a ceramic artist.  She makes pots, urns and small boxes that she glazes in blues and browns and sometimes red.  I love everything she makes. 

I spied her drawing the outline of a very large key with orange crayons last Tuesday.  The key was almost a foot long and rusty and by Saturday, she'd made a perfect replica with clay.  "I am making a box for it," she said.  Now I want to see the box and the castle that goes around it.

But mostly, I want a studio like Kay's, a place where I could spread my crayons and line an army of tin cans filled with brushes.  My sweetheart thinks it's an excellent idea.  We could split the garage down the middle.  I would get the right side, with the door, the window and the sink and the lawnmower would share the left side with the aluminum ladder and the barbecue pit. 

I could picture a comfy Lazy-boy for thinking time and lots of wall space to hang my doodles.  I could scrub the old sink and get an electrician to restore power.  Yes, this could work.