I spend too much time imagining the perfect workspace. In these daydreams, one room after another comes to mind, each a composed little snapshot — a steady drumbeat of possibility. And when I’m done with one, it’s on to the next. With each successive studio revision the quality of my work increases, and by the end of this involuntary exercise I have reached monastic levels of self-perfection.

The moral of the story is that we must not trust tumblr.

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