Establishing a continuous studio practice. Raising from the ashes like a hammered phoenix bird, shaking its wings from excess matter, grooming its feathers back into order and slightly blushing for the meek stumble. I have a new studio! Life the way I learned to know it during last year can continue. It feels almost like a not deserved liberty, that I can escape the brutal and tedious reality into my bat cave and just sleep on the couch, if that’s how I feel like. Like I did today. It’s cold, it’s hot, it smells like oil and paint because of the garage it’s situated on top off but it’s all mine.
Trying to figure out what to bring into the studio is not as easy of a task as you might expect. I only wish to share this space with certain items, only some very sough after artefacts can enter this space and become its fixture. Only the very valid objects becomes “something I have in the studio”, thus can they be photographed as a part of the studio. I am building my studio landscape piece by piece. What an extraordinary thing to do!
Art can be born where there is specific prerequisites for exactly that and nothing else. Or somewhere completely else perhaps?