There’s a new studio in my garden where a rusty old trampoline used to be. You could probably fit my previous box bedroom studio in here twice over and still have room for the easy chair and footstool which have now become essential studio items. I can’t quite believe it’s mine. There’s a 2m long desk that runs the length of the window, an easel standing proudly in the corner and a “painting wall” if I decide to really push the boat out.
It’s day one and I’m working on a 15cm x 20cm canvas, I’m officially “easing myself in”, so you know, no pressure, for now.
In the absence of decent wi-fi, or another human to talk to, I’ve been left alone with my thoughts. A couple of things I’ve been pondering...
I need to do something with the garden, it’s a mess.
I could do with getting a painting calamity or two under my belt – the place is pristine and I’m fretting over little paint splatters and pencil shavings.
Is it my Art Studio or my Shed? Am I an Artist now or am I sticking with Painter?
Can the neighbours hear me singing?
Too early for another cup of tea?
How do you end a blog post?