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Now that it has happened, in retrospect I see that so many things have been tangled up in the whole “getting a studio” hoo-hah.

Having been thwarted by my fusing all the electrics last week, eventually, this afternoon, I had myself some proper studio time. Now the power was back on, the space warmed up nicely. I shut the door and sat, silent, doing nothing with my feet up on the desk, hugging a mug of steamy tea. I must have sat there for ages, looking at the wall where I have pinned up some things to think about. I have a wooden tray of fabric in front of me too. Compartments of tiny scraps that any normal person would have thrown away. These are the words I am working with. This is the limited vocabulary I have to say what I want to say. There is a bowl of threads. These are the stitches that will string the words into sentences, weave a tale and spin the yarn. I realise I am smiling to myself, I feel my heartbeat, and count my breaths.

I spend the next three hours stitching bits of fabric to very open weave muslin, actually an opened-out surgical swab. I was given about 100… I can’t tell you how much joy they bring me!

It’s Saturday night, and it feels like I’ve already had a whole weekend. I am relaxed, calm and happy.

An unexpected side effect from this is that I feel now, my home is my home. I have been neglecting it for weeks… it’s untidy and grubby, and needs a bit of love and attention. Tomorrow, I plan to get up early and do some of it… maybe a lot of it. I no longer feel I have to tear bits off it to be something else. I no longer have to take myself away and work all the time on my art projects. I now have time and space for that, and headspace too, more importantly. Three hours in that space was worth about ten doing it here at home.

I used to say I preferred to work at home, that I couldn’t see the point in having a studio if I had space here. I didn’t realise it isn’t the space that counts. It is the separateness that counts. It is the dedicated-ness that counts. It’s not having to turn it back into a dining room that counts. It’s knowing there are going to be no interruptions to thinking that counts.

I have been detached from bits of my life I think, trying to make something work that wasn’t. Trying to squeeze something in that was never going to fit.

That door with the big lock I wrote about a bit ago? Another cog has turned and fallen into place. I heard it this afternoon.

I had a plan.

I was going to spend the whole day there, 9am till 5pm. I was going to arrange things, hang things, sort it all out then sit and work. I’d got lunch, tea bags, music. And chocolate.

It started so well!

Until I plugged in the heater.

Ten minutes later I realised I wasn’t getting any warmer. The heater wasn’t working. So I did the usual things and tried another. Then tried another socket. Then tried another appliance. Oh Bum.

I had blown something. I was the only person there, and I scoured the place. Do you think I could find the fuse box? No.

Anyway, having discovered it was only upstairs sockets that were affected, I put the kettle on downstairs, put my coat and scarf back on and carried on working for a while. It was rubbish. It is impossible for me to stitch with cold hands, so I gave up. I was home early afternoon, trying desperately to get warm for the rest of the day.

I am keen to immerse myself. What I want to do is get there early and work hard until I have to stop. I want to come away feeling tired from doing art all day. I don’t want to clock-watch, I want to go with the flow of ideas, not with the ring of bells, alarms, or anyone else’s need for food and drink or anything. I want to be so selfishly absorbed I forget myself. I want to come to after hours of work, feeling thirsty, hungry and amazed at the time!

I’ll let you know if it ever happens. I can remember doing it as a child, and as a teenager, but rarely since having job and children. I love that feeling, and yearn for it.

Ok!

I’ve moved in… not quite lock, stock and barrel, but a boot load of stuff went over this afternoon, and I’m piling up the next lot to take on Tuesday.

It felt weird… my son asked “ooh! can I come?” and after a really loooonnng pause he said “I’ll take that as a no then”. I was thinking, because I didn’t want to seem mean, I didn’t want to say no outright, but that’s how it was. So no, he didn’t come with me.

Maybe some of you will know how I felt. I didn’t know this space. I have never had a studio away from home or college/university before. I don’t know how to be in it. I don’t know how to work in it. So I want to be on my own in it until I know, and I’m confident about the studio owning artist Elena before I let people in. Sounds selfish? Yes! Absolutely! I don’t think I’m going to apologise for it either. Having a studio is totally self indulgent, self obsessed. But I’ve been that anyway. On occasions I have been horribly so. By having this separate space, I am hoping that will stop, or at least be contained. The time just ran away with me… I had three hours there, basically cleaning and moving furniture. My mind raced over what I was going to do and make and listen to and think about. Suddenly, my time was up. I can see me having to set an alarm on my phone.

I have some work on the walls and hanging from the ceiling. I have a quilt and a few books there. I have fabric, thread, paper and basic kit. On Tuesday I will take my ironing board and cutting mat etc. Practical items for making….

But the huge huge luxury is this space with a window and a door. I can let the world in, or shut it out. It is mine only. It has a lock on the door. Part of me feels it will be quite some time before I invite people into it. I anticipate spending lots of time just getting my head straight and sorting the ideas out. I moved the furniture round many times, but decided that if I have a view of a castle, my workspace should be where I can glance up and see it! I envisage moving my thoughts around, until the internal view is clearer too.

Someone posed the question “I wonder if your work will change?”

I wonder…

Imagine a huge pair of doors… in my mind they are the scale of the baptistery doors in Florence. I have no idea what is behind them. A key has been turned. I search in my memory to find when, but the actual moment is elusive.

But I can hear the tumblers shifting, slowly. It is a complex lock. It will take a while for the doors to open. But they will. It’s too late now to stop them…

Over the last 300+ posts, sometimes I have written twaddle, just for the sake of it. I have treated you to a whole new level of mundanity.

Today dear reader(s) I have a proper reason for posting, A proper artist’s reason for posting.

I HAVE A STUDIO!

I’m sure some of you know how HUGE this is. Some of you perhaps take it for granted.

This blog platform doesn’t allow me a big enough, red enough, shiny enough font to express how excited I am!

I’ve just driven back from Wolverhampton in the rain, in the knowledge, via email, that I have a studio. I sang loudly all the way, in a high and squeaky voice to Loney Dear’s “Hall Music”. I hope I have driven slowly and safely, because I have no recollection of the journey, the roundabouts or the traffic lights.

It is in Artspace Dudley, well, above it really, above the “empty shop” it occupies in the town centre. The studio is big enough, light enough and clean enough for a textiles person. I have a big window from which I can ignore Farmfoods and the bus station, and see the castle and surrounding views… Dudley is quite high up. Compared to other studios I have visited, it is in a good state of repair. It’s not a great area, but artists studios generally aren’t are they? It is cheap, I get the opportunity to mix myself up a bit with other artists and get involved in stuff.

I have no idea how I am going to occupy this space. I’m going to move some stuff in. I’m going to pin stuff up on the white walls. I am going to have some books, a comfy chair (maybe two) and fabric and thread and old clothes hanging all around me…. Then we will see.

I am going to have some sort of event to mark this. I will have music and wine and nibbles and tea and cake. I’m more of a tea and cake person I think… I will have an exhibition that is all my own. I will open the studio and invite people in.

THEN I will tell them all to clear off, because I have work to do.

http://www.artspacedudley.com/