A Third, Invincible Arm

I suppose that a third, invincible arm sprouting from my chest isn't exactly the most obvious take on "fantastic studio ideas," but I've got good reason. Prepare yourself for some Mr. Palomar logic. If you read my previous post about the Iodine Dungeon, you'll find I've already got a wonderful studio, albeit with room for improvement. I mean, as long as I'm being more literal about it, I'd like my studio to be lakeside, thank you very much. 

I figure that, if I need to re-imagine my studio in such a way to improve my ability to create, I have to consider what a studio is. A studio is a space where you can make artwork, and is also a space  conducive to creation. However, truth be told, the only thing that determines whether or not you can make artwork in space is whether or not you are there to make art. The second factor that determines what a studio is what complicates things. Not every space is conducive to creation. On a basic level, a nonconducive space might simply be a space where there is not enough room to work, or there is too little lighting. Less obvious qualities are things like a space belonging to someone who does not want you working there, or a space that is unsecured and prone to interference from other people. 

The way I see it, given the will to create, the only limiting factor is how good a particular space is for working in. So, in order to certainly improve how conducive a space is to creation, why not improve every space while you are at it? One way to improve how conducive every space is to creation is to apply those improvements to your own person. 

My first idea was my go-to idea for wishes: A hazmat suit. I have always wanted a hazmat suit. It immunizes you to most dangers, provides you with a literal personal bubble, and it makes you look like a terrifying monster. If a spacesuit is meant to protect you from the hazards of alien environments, then a hazmat suit is a spacesuit for the dangers here at home. Other ideas I had included an endless supply of robot drones of myself that I could use to take risks without having to worry about getting hurt (I mean, what if I wanted to know what falling into lava looks like, I couldn't rightly do that with my actual body, now could I?), and also an endless shelf for m to store my acrylic skins and past works in. The idea I ended up settling on was the one that follows the principle of  needing another hand.

I mean, I can't feasibly think of any disadvantages to having a third arm. Ok, there are actually plenty, like shirts not fitting and people looking at you like a freak, but in terms of improving studio practice, it is flawless. To help mitigate situations where having a third arm is disadvantageous, I decided that the arm must be a prosthetic so that it can be removed when it gets in the way. I also decided that the arm must be invulnerable because why not. I could use my third arm to grab things that might otherwise damage it, like sticking it in a hot kiln. 

Here is the arm I built. The fantasy arm, of course, would be genuinely indestructible and completely articulated, but I am only an artist so the real deal is instead fragile and only somewhat articulated. 

The palm with fingers spread.

The palm with fingers tightened.

The palm in the shape of dog shadow puppet!

The back of the hand.

The back of the hand with the wrist cocked to show off the articulation.