Thistles at Ventura Community Park.
Greetings Friends,
I don’t live in a war zone and we’re no longer in the midst of a global pandemic. I’m grateful for these things, and my situation is far more banal. I’m in the middle of home renovation. Anyone who has gone through this knows how disruptive it can be.
My house was built in 1929 and is sorely in need of some repairs and TLC. I started with the roof, which has been leaking for years. That wasn’t too bad, because the workers were outside and not inside the house. But the cats were distressed by the daily pounding noises from above. It sounded like small earthquakes and shook the walls so much that the artwork was all askew.
Now I’m replacing the flea-ridden carpet and worn tiles with vinyl plank flooring. My plan was to put the cats on the catio during the day while the workers were here. That only lasted one day until the noise from a circular saw, a power sander and a radio blasting music sent them into a panic.
It was pretty bad, and I had to quickly evacuate them to the studio. That wasn’t an immediate relief, because the studio is unfamiliar territory for them. I gave them Bach Flower Rescue Remedy, played soft, soothing music, and stayed with them until they calmed down a bit, which took several hours.
I spent the rest of the week in the studio with them during the day, reassuring them with my presence. By day four they got used to the routine, but they weren’t exactly happy with it.
Cleopatra
Gwyneth
Penelope
Meanwhile in the house, it’s chaos. As often happens with old homes, unexpected problems have cropped up. Evidently the back bathroom toilet has been leaking for years. When they removed the tile they found that the subfloor was literally gone. You could see straight down into the crawl space. It’s a miracle that the toilet didn’t fall through the floor!
The floor underneath the kitchen tile looks like something you would find in a dilapidated abandoned farmhouse. It’s scary looking!
And the toilet in the front bathroom is also leaking. These issues have caused delays, and it looks like we have at least another week to go.
Half of the house is in boxes in my studio, and the furniture in the house is all pushed up against the walls.
It’s hard to deal with chaos and disruption like this. I’ve spent the long days in the studio with the cats working on some new collages and weaving, which I find soothing.
The collages use my scrunched up momigami papers and poetry created from found phrases and words.
“New You,” 10 x 8 inches, collage on cradled wood panel
“Modern Zen,” 10 x 8 inches, collage on cradled wood panel
“Love Story,” 10 x 8 inches, collage on cradled wood panel
I’ve also been weaving scarves for a show I’ll be doing at The Ebell in Los Angeles next December. They requested bright colors, and I’m doing my best to accommodate that.
The new flooring isn’t done yet, but the part that is done looks beautiful. And the flea problem is almost gone.
I hope your life is less chaotic than mine, and you’re enjoying the summer!
How do you deal with chaos and disruption? I’d enjoy hearing your thoughts. You can share them with us in the comments section below.
With love and appreciation,
Cassandra
Poor kitties! They’re sleeping in the studio too, I suppose? Surely you’re staying out there with them, Mom!
They’re only in the studio during the day. In the evening, after the workers have left, I bring them back into the house. But I’ve been spending my days out in the studio with them, and they’ve been very long days. I love the studio, but not for nine hours a day.