When we moved to a small town nearly 10 years ago, we rented a high-ceilinged appartment - and with some ingenuity, created a workspace that I used while I attended Art School. If you look carefully, we created the illusion of a wall that still allowed light through to the rest of the living space. It was a small step up from the unused corners I'd been using until then.
When we moved, I rented a studio. It had become necessary. I have no pictures of it, it was a moldy-smelling empty storefront. My studio mate and I were too cheap to pay for heat and it was a rather cold space, but it allowed me to work freely when we initially bought a house that didn't have a space ready for me to use.
This picture shows the detached garage on our property that we eventually transformed into my studio. We insulated and re-wired it, and added two large north-facing windows. This was by far my biggest studio. I had lots of room, it was ideal for life drawing and painting.
Here, I am back to working in an apartment corner after relocating to Victoria. I was lucky, my partner was willing to share the living room with my studio. We were refitting our sailboat with the goal to move aboard, so this was a perfectly adequate work space for the time being.
And then there was the hidden gazebo... Once I moved aboard the sailboat, I rented this studio with a friend. A hidden space on an undeveloped property in Oak Bay. It was a little wild, racoons and deer often visited. We worked with gloves and a little space heater in the winter, and it smelled a bit funny - squirrels lived in the ceiling. Ugh.
For about a year, I used another friend's basement as my studio. The ceiling was low but the lighting was rather good - another artist had used the space before. It was a temporary and affordable solution.
And this takes me to my present studio. I took the time to paint the walls, and dig out some of my special "treasures" from storage. I hadn't seen my tin boxes and knick-knacks for the 3 years I've been living on the boat. I believe I've mentioned this before: The studio is in a household of artists who are great friends. It's not very big, but it's a very lovely space. And there's a wonderful creative energy in the house. My partner and I spend a fair bit of time there when we're not sailing. Can you blame us? There is a bathtub! (Oh and cool people are living there too...)
I think of my studio as a vegetable garden,
where things follow their natural course. They grow, they ripen.
You have to graft. You have to water.
(Joan Miro)