The need to make art and the space it takes

I've heard it said by artists in discussing their future dreams: "I just want a small house and a big studio!"

And why is it important to us artists to have that place to make art? So important, in fact, that a big studio is preferred over a big house. When David got finished with art school in the '70's, he built a studio space in the pole shed at the farm. He enclosed a space, added a wood floor, put in insulation, a chimney and a Jotul wood stove.

Then he met me, married me, and embarked with me on an adventure that has taken 36 years to bring full circle. Now we are literally right back where we started. (Our first date was at the studio!)

So we are older, wiser, and all that. And very much still needing a place to make art. Our art is varied;it requires supplies, time, and a lot of tools. And cats. Our art includes painting, jewelry making, mixed media collage, leather craft, decorative painting, and wood working. Our future art will include ceramics. There is no end in sight of the need we both have to make art.

The need to sell our art goes hand in hand with the need to make it. Neither one of us is cut from the fabric of making art to just give it away. It's the selling it, the finding the right client for the work , that scratches the itch and completes the cycle.

Of course all this comes at a price. When I think about the length I have gone to to get in the right shows so I can meet my ideal client, well, it makes me shudder. And if we were to count up the actual hours David has spent on his art that he would not, could not, get paid for, it's pretty insane. And yet there is this need to make art. So we keep figuring it out. How to make it, how to sell it , and how to have that big studio next to the small house.

So we're doing a little bit of renovations. Like a new floor, insulation, rain gutters, varmint proofing, and lighting. Hopefully we will get it done before the weather turns freezing.

I have to keep my vision up of the big studio, because, as you can see, it's little more than a dirt hole right now. Our cats love it, they think it's a huge sand box/ litter box. My work area is the table in the upper right of the photo. Pretty primitive, huh?
But you should see the view from here.

Stay tuned for updates on our big country studio!

Comments

Where it All Started

I have always believed that people love to see behind the scenes in the artist studio. It’s like looking behind the curtain and seeing what goes on backstage, to see how the art is crafted, what tools and materials are used, and how the artist thinks. To this end, I am thrilled to unveil a new video that tells my story of the origins of Parts of Art. A big shout out to the producer and videographer @Moguefilms . Here are some of the pieces seen on the video. Want to see more? visit my shop here

Just add paint!

It’s just that simple when painting with watercolor. This is how I start my day in the studio. Open to a new page, fill a brush with sparkling clean water, and fill the page or pages. Then, add watercolor paint and let it do its thing. The daily studio routine is this: clock in at 9 and paint that page in my journal. I realize that the painting on this page could become a beautiful fabric design, a batiked collage, or an amazing painted wall hanging. But my POINT is that I start my studio day with water on a page and go from there. As far as the illustrated journal, yes it’s true. Any thing done on these hallowed pages could become some great masterpiece someday. But that’s clearly not the intent. The journal is the place to play, to experiment, to express, to answer the question “what if ?” It’s about the inspiring and refreshing place my mind enters once that water on the page turns to color. It’s where it starts. Does it matter

Best advice ever

I was eagerly, breathlessly waiting outside the door of the 3rd floor painting studio, anticipating my turn at the hallowed easel. There, the renowned and venerable professor would lovingly and patiently teach me how to paint with oils. Now here I was, in the very studio of my dreams. And all I would hear from the renowned and wise professor was (after a long and awkward pause, her looking over my shoulder) “Well, finish this one and go on to the next one.” Embarrassment. Heartbreak. Doubt. Anger. All these stirred up inside me while sitting in front of that easal. How was I to finish this one and go on to the next one when I didn’t know HOW? Could you just SHOW ME HOW? Looking back now, I fully realize that was the best advice I could’ve gotten at the time. After all, the only way to learn how to paint is to paint, paint, paint and paint some more. Now that I am a mixed media collage artist, that advice sounds in my mind every time I pain

Parts of Art

Search This Blog