I started my professional art career at a kitchen table. Well, to be honest, it was a tall kitchen island with a stool. That didn't work for too long as there was inadequate lightning, the stool made my legs get pins and needles and I felt off balance on it, as if at any minute, I was bound to topple off it. Worst of all, my husband kept asking where the deli meat was, did I see his socks, could I get him such and such? You get the idea. I tried numerous times to convey to him that my art career was not a hobby. It was my job; I asked him: if I was working in a 9-5 office job would he walk into my office, interrupting me, with questions about the location of food that was right in front of his face? And just as distracting as my spouse, were my two dogs. They are as rambunctious as they are lovable----always trying to command my attention. Last of all, when it was meal time, I had to clear away my art and all its supplies. My art studio reverted back to a kitchen. Poof!
Thereafter, I purchased a 1970's trailer and set it in the backyard. That worked well for a few months until the summer heat transformed it into an oven (despite two air conditioners), the interior wood started disintegrating, with a funky smell that I could not eradicate, no matter what. It was too narrow to fit my workbench. Not enough room to work on larger pieces. After time, it leaned due north and with it so did my art. When out-of-state relatives came to visit, this art studio doubled as a spare bedroom. Poof! There went my art studio for a week.
After that, I set up my studio in the screened in back porch. That worked very well for about a year, until the roof started to leak and shorted out my electric and a power tool. The leak also damaged several pieces of garbage I use to create art. Fixed the roof. Still leaked. Not enough electrical outlets, too. And when someone needed to access the backyard, they had to walk through my studio, sometimes knocking over my supplies.
Fourth try is the charm, as I now have a new studio (featured above...I know, it looks like a junkyard) that will work, hopefully, forever. It is on my carport. Plenty of room. Fits my workbench. I'm in heaven. My husband no longer asks me where the bread is while I'm creating. The dogs haven't a clue where I've gone. Sheer solitude.
I believe a vital ingredient in having a successful art career is where you create. It must be comfortable, spacious as possible and be a haven from the world's distractions and impositions. If it's too hot, too cold, too small, lacking electrical outlets....fill in the blank---any adverse condition that can distract you from making great art---can negatively impact your creative process. And to be honest, some days my creative process is such a struggle that I need all the help I can get.
And I have discovered that when I set up my new studio, a space dedicated solely to making art, I felt a newfound sense of pride and professionalism. It conveyed to me that my art mattered enough to have its own space. I no longer had to clear away my art and its supplies when I had to serve dinner. No one sleeps in my art studio. My studio is only that. It is shared with nothing and no one.
And you want to know something? I truly believe that my art has gotten better since establishing this new studio. My creative process has become more effective, more effortless, now that I longer have to contend with human distraction and poor atmospheric conditions.
I admit that I have the luxury of space. And you might not have the same. I would, however, urge you to do all within your power to find that space. To create a studio of your own. You and your art deserves a space of its own.
Thereafter, I purchased a 1970's trailer and set it in the backyard. That worked well for a few months until the summer heat transformed it into an oven (despite two air conditioners), the interior wood started disintegrating, with a funky smell that I could not eradicate, no matter what. It was too narrow to fit my workbench. Not enough room to work on larger pieces. After time, it leaned due north and with it so did my art. When out-of-state relatives came to visit, this art studio doubled as a spare bedroom. Poof! There went my art studio for a week.
After that, I set up my studio in the screened in back porch. That worked very well for about a year, until the roof started to leak and shorted out my electric and a power tool. The leak also damaged several pieces of garbage I use to create art. Fixed the roof. Still leaked. Not enough electrical outlets, too. And when someone needed to access the backyard, they had to walk through my studio, sometimes knocking over my supplies.
Fourth try is the charm, as I now have a new studio (featured above...I know, it looks like a junkyard) that will work, hopefully, forever. It is on my carport. Plenty of room. Fits my workbench. I'm in heaven. My husband no longer asks me where the bread is while I'm creating. The dogs haven't a clue where I've gone. Sheer solitude.
I believe a vital ingredient in having a successful art career is where you create. It must be comfortable, spacious as possible and be a haven from the world's distractions and impositions. If it's too hot, too cold, too small, lacking electrical outlets....fill in the blank---any adverse condition that can distract you from making great art---can negatively impact your creative process. And to be honest, some days my creative process is such a struggle that I need all the help I can get.
And I have discovered that when I set up my new studio, a space dedicated solely to making art, I felt a newfound sense of pride and professionalism. It conveyed to me that my art mattered enough to have its own space. I no longer had to clear away my art and its supplies when I had to serve dinner. No one sleeps in my art studio. My studio is only that. It is shared with nothing and no one.
And you want to know something? I truly believe that my art has gotten better since establishing this new studio. My creative process has become more effective, more effortless, now that I longer have to contend with human distraction and poor atmospheric conditions.
I admit that I have the luxury of space. And you might not have the same. I would, however, urge you to do all within your power to find that space. To create a studio of your own. You and your art deserves a space of its own.