Come See My Studio

The romantic life of an artist?! Um, no. The  day-to-day reality is eminently more practical. Here's how I do it- 

 Some artists I know are neat and tidy. I'll never claim to be neat and tidy. Here's a  peek at my paint-mixing-and-other-miscellaneous-stuff table. What is that light bulb still doing there? How many pairs of scissors can you spot? Why the saw?

I buy highest quality canvas by the roll, cut the size I need,  and stretch paintings only for shows. Many of my sales are online through Saatchi Art. Sold paintings are generally shipped rolled and are later stretched by the collector's favorite frame shop. This supports local business, saves me storage space, materials, and time, so you can acquire investment quality paintings more affordably. 

Not having to crate large paintings is also more earth friendly. Two large paintings, boxed up and ready to go to collectors. It still takes the better part of an afternoon to carefully prepare paintings for shipping.

See that computer screen on the drafting table at the far end of the messy table? That's where the business end of my art practice lives. Most people don't realize that considerable time is spent on correspondence with galleries, collectors, potential exhibitions, and social media marketing. It's not my favorite corner, but it gets the job done. Also, note the door. It closes. The studio is my private space where I get to mess around with abandon and without judgment. This door may be the most important part of my studio.

Since I work on my feet, tacking large pieces of canvas directly to a gallery-lit, specially designed wall works best. The ability to get distance from my work to really "see" it is important. This set-up allows me to move around the studio to get different views of work in progress. A handy dandy rolling cart keeps colors close at hand.

And now for the sentimental–both my parents died young. Some of my brushes are nearly 50 years old and belonged to my artist mom. I use and treasure them. I also regularly wear a pair of reading glasses that belonged to my dad. Oh, how styles come and go, and come, again!

It'd be impossible to imagine this full-time job without the enthusiastic help of Studio Dog, who anchors the paint-stained rug in a warm patch of sunshine. 

Time to start thinking about what's for dinner. Please feel free to ask about my studio or artistic process below or by email.

Thanks for visiting!