My house is full of art. Big art, little art. Art in 2D and 3D. Art on scraps and art on canvas. Fabric art. Written art. I often go to friends houses and envy their advanced level of organization. A level that I can't manage to attain no matter what lengths I go to achieve it. I felt badly about this for a long time. What must people think of me with all this colorful detritus floating about? However, most of this art belongs to my two (now three) small artists in residence. Someday, they will be gone and I can hire a cleaning lady to keep my house spotless and I will miss the dioramas, the watercolors, the clay figures that faintly resemble something I can't quite remember. . .
In the mean time, I will cope with the piles. And hope that my children will remember being able to make messy elaborate "projects" for days on end in the middle of the dining table.