I’m currently in the very lucky position of making home improvements. It’s great. I have waited 9½ years for this. When all the work is done, it will be wonderful to have a fully functioning kitchen and easy access to the kitchen garden. We’ve already had new bi-fold doors fitted in the dining room, which floods the room with light and creates a connection to the pretty side of the garden. This is the space where I usually work in my journal or watercolours on paper.
So why the title “Displaced”? Well we still have temporary walls separating the living areas from the building works. We still have a studio full of tools, a dishwasher and a dead cooker. We are living in someone else’s home…a lovely home it is but we are both artists…where do we make our mess?
I find myself popping back to the house for no real reason other than to feel the familiarity of some of my spaces. I have sat in the TV room with my computer to feel a bit normal. I have laid on my bed and looked out at the trees that I rest my gaze on during early morning cups of tea. Today I even popped by to pick up some apples from my favourite apple tree.
I am aching to paint. Smelly and dirty oil on canvas. Large scale. Lots of them at the same time.
But for now…I will stick to my drawings, collages and watercolours and dream…while I seek the temporary studio solution. Somewhere to be comfortable and creative.
You cannot just be working in a vast, air-conditioned loft space and think you are going to make a decent painting. Francis Bacon had a special studio built, and he felt completely emasculated in there. I have to be somewhere comfortable.