You're married to a what now? Is that patchouli I'm smelling?

My husband is a fairly artistic fellow.  He sculpts, draws, paints, designs and builds furniture, and doodles like a master.  That said, I've never thought of him as "an artist" because his artistic pursuits have generally been hobbies, not his profession.

A few weeks ago, I met a woman from the West Huron Sculptors at an event we were both attending.  My husband is a member; it's essentially a group of sculptors who go in together to rent some studio space.  In addition to paying rent on the space, they all chip in to pay a model who comes in once a week.  I don't really think of my husband as "a sculptor," I think of him as a Guy Who Goes To Sculpt On Sundays.

While I was talking to this woman, a third person joined us and asked how we wer knew each other, and my new acquaintance said "I share a studio with her husband."  That is 100% true, but when she said that, it gave me pause.  Do they share a studio?  Isn't that something that artists would do?  My husband, an artist?  I don't know why that should trip off my tongue in a difficult way, because, you know, he pretty much is one when I consider his talent and interests.  And yet, well, it was a new concept.

My next thought is that "I don't look like an artists' wife."  I needed more jewelry.  Funkier glasses.  Drapier clothes.  Which is also ridiculous, because my own mother was the wife of an artist--straight up, legit, my dad IS an artist--and she didn't skew very funky in her sartorial choices.

And yet.  I feel the need to buy purple glasses and wear chunky bracelets and skirts of unusual length.