Sunday, September 8, 2013

Studio Genetics

 
I have a genetic quirk handed down from my father, and probably his father's father. This dent to my DNA makes it nearly impossible to buy a product which is actually made for a particular purpose.
 
In a painter's studio a taboret is a must. It holds paint, brushes - all the miscellaneous stuff you need to focus on your creative endeavor.  However, due to this recessive gene, purchasing such an item proved impossible.
 
 
My chemical quirk took me to a consignment store, where I found a perfect substitute and paid a hefty $5 for it. Another $5 for paint and I'm ready to roll. The suitcase was used to carry my pastels  until my collection outgrew it.  Now I keep it around for storage and quick get-aways.
 
 
Speaking of pastels, these are boxes I made from foam board. Originally I went against my genetic code and actually purchased a real box made to hold real pastels from an art supply store. The box was named after a noted pastel artist, and I was certain that if I owned a Famous Artist Pastel Box that I too would become a famous pastel artist.

 
 Evidently the simple hijacking of a name does not imbue quality in a product.  Taking that as proof positive that my genes were fit to survive this challenge I used the soon-to-be returned box as a template and made several trays of my own...
 


to fit inside this handy dandy plastic box which was purchased at an office supply store.  ( So far my boxes have outlasted the original by nearly a decade. Yay evolution!)

For a quick brush holder I've been known to fold over a piece of corrugated cardboard. Mine fits exactly where I want it to, unlike a real live brush holder which fits where someone else thinks it should fit.




 For larger collections of brushes a potato chip can works wonders as well. Extend it with some sturdy paper and 'presto', you're good to go.

 
The advantage of making your own brush holder is that you get to determine the size you personally prefer, and the survival of your project is sustained by it's own food source.
 

My drying rack is a re-purposed wire shelf ... sensible and handy since I wasn't using that shelf anyway...

 
and equipment blossoms from containers of all sorts and sizes - each one perfect for its contents.

 
I'm sure that scientists around the world are currently employed by art supply warehouses and are working to fix this genetic glitch.

Even as I type this, petri dishes in laboratories from east to west may be full of genes growing to circumvent this chromosomal crisis.

I've got an idea for them...

7 comments:

Cathyann Burgess said...

Brilliant post,Patty.

I think I have that genetic imperfection too!

I use a former hospital side chest on wheels with drawers as my taboret. I think it cost 25 dollars. Real sturdy and moves easily.

I love your petri dish!LOL

Patty said...

Cathyann, your hospital chest sounds perfect. Perhaps we should pity those who do not have this genetic quality, they don't have as much fun as we do!

Nancy said...

You are as gifted a writer as you are an artist, Patty. I loved your post!

cm cernetisch said...

I have this gene as well but cannot claim to 'suffer" from it, in fact, I find it amusing. My taboret is an old buffet table. with a few tweaks, it is one of my favorite pieces in the studio, daresay as, if not moreso, than the easel itself. the price was terrific--free! came with matching chairs too. poor thing was abandoned in a rental house. and there isn't one made yet that would entice me to trade.

Patty said...

Cm, I love your attitude!! I believe my dear Handsome Husband suffers more than I from my genetic disposition. In my mind I'm thrifty, in his I'm cheap. I'd like to think my dad would find this conversation amusing.
Nancy, thank you, I appreciate your kind remarks.

chris may said...

I think our hubby's could easily compare notes--when we go to the dump, mine no longer seems to ask me to ride along. He sees it as a way to get rid of stuff, myself, I FIND some of the most awesome stuff ever! and again, the price cant' be beat!
I also have pastel boxes amazingly similar to yours. coincidence?

Patty said...

Coincidence? I think not. Brilliant minds think alike.