I really love this. I love working hard on an order, immersing myself with this soft skin of quiet around me. Maybe that's why I push deadlines sometimes - deep down I know it'll be an excuse for uninterrupted time in the studio. And late-night coffee.
Co-existing with my love of work-time with Safiya is this love, and sometimes I fantasize that I really want to live like I imagine the (male, I guess - is that sexist?) artists of yore: hours in the studio, someone brings you food, the house gets cleaned, you go wandering in the city seeking inspiration, you procreate with abandon because, well, you can, and someone will take care of the children....Of course, there's always the problem of finding patrons and having to live in poverty if you don't, but somehow that doesn't factor into my fantasies :-)
I saw a little of this part of myself in Safiya today, actually. She had planned a project, drawing it out, making a pattern, making a list of things she needed. There's been more of this lately; more long-term planning on her part.
She wanted a companion for her pigeon that we swapped for last year at the Queen West Art Crawl from Fish on Fridays, and I knew that encouraging her in this way would result in the satisfaction of working of a longer project rather than just the pleasure of the end result (i.e. me making it for her).
What happened was that fierceness that arises when you are not to be swayed from your task at hand; she needed neither sustenance nor washroom breaks, apparently. The only way she would come to table was if the project came with her.
I was glad. It sits here, next to my work, waiting for her hands tomorrow. I wouldn't give up being here for that for anything.
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