Yes, my shop is not Instagram ready. The basement shop where the bandsaws, table saw, planer, and such reside are OK; if you are interested in bare stone walls and equipment that everyone else has.
The carving shop, where I do most of my work, is only an eight by ten. It is not ready for Instagram. Part of it still serves as a greenhouse. In my part of the country, my large rosemary plants die terrible deaths outside; they and the figs live inside the greenhouse all winter. The remaining area is taken up by the workbench, tool racks, and lots of little storage units for small tools, adhesives, abrasives, finishes, and much more.
I moved this essential part of my operation out here because I can heat the small space to a comfortable level even during the winter. In the much larger basement shop, the howling wind whistles through a neverending supply of conduits to the outside that I can never block up.
A few other reasons apply as well: my cat likes the space in winter so I sometimes have her company as I carve; It also puts real size limits on the size of commissions I can accept -” downsized the shop. Can’t do that stuff anymore.” A final reason is that, in the winter when I am sitting in my little shop with a visitor, it takes me back to coastal Maine. I recall the hours of conversations with craftsmen and fishermen in similar small shops; it’s a link to other times and places on which I set a high value.
But, It’s not Instagram ready. The rows of small plastic storage containers would look much more “crafty” if they were shop made from wood. The untidy piles and boxes of extra wood, half-finished projects, patterns, and drawings should be cleaned up. Ain’t going to happen. At root, I don’t care if my shop is not Instagram ready.