I couldn't have been less permeable, when I'd hear my mother say to my father...."Well, that's fine, but you GO to work..... I wake up and my work surrounds me..."
I get it now.
Mornings when I am still and quiet, my work surrounds me. It's partly by chance. My current work, in it's various stages, sits on the mantel directly in my line of vision. I put it there to keep it away from curious noses and paws, but the unintended prize is the realization that it's constant presence keeps the conversation alive, even when I am distracted.
It is always there.
"My arms are wrong."
"You didn't make me very interesting"
"This is what my head needs to look like"
"This is a great dress, but it doesn't fit."
"What was your intention, when you gave me two heads?"
"How come I only have one head?"
"You did a good job on these wire thingies"