23 February 2010
Maragaret Ryall has posted some great photos of her studio and, judging by the comments, many of us were quite envious of the dedicated space she has for her creativity. It made me wonder about how we use space, how we move through it and how we allocate space for particular tasks.
The photo above is my "dream" studio -- a large open space with high ceilings and light cascading in through a big skylight, white walls to offer freshness and to give the colors an unsullied space to glow. One would be able to open the studio for open houses and celebrations. And definitely, music would be flowing throughout the room.
But I wonder if I would actually "work" in this kind of space? Especially if there was a beautiful view to look at or a set of french door opening out onto a slate terrace filled with pots and trellises of flowers where I could lounge with a glass of wine and a good book.
My actual workspace is more cave-like. Sounds horrible, doesn't it? And there are times when I despair of ever having anything remotely like the above. But, on the other hand, there are positive aspects to my cave:
>Not too many members of my family search for me when I'm "in the belly of the beast" and, as a mother, that's a good thing. Otherwise, it would be a constant barrage of questions, trips, tasks, etc.
>I lose track of time because the windows are small and don't admit too much natural light, which is good as I am not conscious of the change in light, of time passing. It's warm in the winter and cool in the summer, too.
>I feel no compunction to clean up my messes, leaving used rags and empty paint tubes scattered around, coffee cups, etc. (I do clean up, just not always).
I think you get the picture.
If I were surrounded by such a beautiful space, my mind would wander, my urge to splash things around would be curbed, and it would become more of a "decorative" space than a "work" space.
But that's me. And, believe me, if someone handed me the keys to the above studio, I would run like the wind to take possession!
Someday, somehow, I'll have a space that I would be proud to show the light of day. Just not right now . . .