An enigmatic work of art in book form lay on the studio table. A tiny gold keyhole was deeply embedded in the front side of this hand-painted wooden box-like object, but no key had arrived in the mail with this object, and there was no obvious way to open it without destroying the resonance that it had as a work of art by an unknown artist.
Other than a faded Persian rug and a round oak table, there is not much furniture in this studio. It might be assumed that the occupant is too poor to buy furniture, but any one familiar with the area would know that if she can afford this place, she can afford furniture. In another era, Caydance Skye O'Brien, who lives in this studio, would have a laptop computer, but it is 1986, and she has an Apple II, a modem, Print Shop, WordPerfect, and a communications program. These things are on a substantial table beside her bed.
Out the central panels of an oriel window, the white sails of boats on San Francisco Bay were visible. On a studio table situated beneath the oriel window, were cold press Arches Paper in various weights and sizes, paint brushes and archival ink pens, assorted toy people and toy store objects, tubes of acrylic and watercolor paints, a pile of stencils, Yes paste, archival tape, and triangular pieces of transparent plastic.