Sunday, May 30, 2010

On Space

Artists often talk about their studios, the space, often revered, where they work. Their art comes to being in this space and it seems to be a space where they feel closest to their authentic Self.

I don't have such a space. I never have; the closest I've ever had was the studio space I shared with the other art students at my college. I had a corner, in the back, with an easel or two and a stool and a chair. To me, this was almost a sacred space...

I've since graduated, of course, and have been relegated to snatching space wherever I can find it: in the kitchen, in a corner of my basement room. I long for a dedicated studio space, especially during those times when my thoughts are most scattered and very little is getting accomplished, when I feel ready to drown in the sea of emotional stuff that surrounds me, in other words, the times when I most need to immerse myself in my work.

I envy artists who produce in weeks the amount of paintings I do in a year.

I have yet to figure out the space in which I work best, but I am grateful for the chances I get to do the work of my deepest self.


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