I have always been extremely lucky when it came to studio space. Since 1997, I have always managed to have a somewhat spacious area to work in. Rarely has the natural lighting been ideal, rarely have I had access to climate control and drinkable water, and rarely have I had the space that guaranteed complete privacy. Yet I have had a reasonably large area exclusively for painting for 15 years now. Last summer I moved my habit into the “Workhouse,” the residential home that I grew up in. It kind of sucked, I mean talk about loaded with memories at every corner. Still, as for space it is an embarrassment of riches; living room with a picture window coupled with the adjacent dining area provides plenty of wall and work space, 3 additional rooms that have become a “framing” room, a photo-shoot room, and a storage room to keep the rest of the place streamlined. Two-and-a-half bathrooms, a kitchen/bar, and a gas fireplace are the additional amenities that keep the place comfy. Don’t get me wrong though, I hate working there and hope to get out asap. It’s no-profile, it requires maintenance (like mowing), and I repeat, I grew up there so it’s a total emotional drag. However, the circumstances at the time required it, and I’m thankful to continue having a work space at all.
A couple weeks ago after taking digital slides of some newer work, it occurred to me that it may be better to move the actual painting space into what was at the time the photo room. I don’t know what I was thinking exactly, the space was a fraction of the living room/dining room area I was utilizing before. Regardless I moved the painting operation into the space while managing to keep the area clean and open, and snap! I had downsized beautifully into a space that for some reason was much more conducive to thinking and working.
Here it is in all it’s simple glory at about 3am, not unlike another better known studio space.