After a short break, the 198th installment of A View From the Easel, a series of artists sending photos and workspace descriptions, is back. Would you like to participate? Submit your studio! Please check the submission guidelines.
BA Thomas, Raleigh, North Carolina
Here, oh, here’s my unedited, Instagram-unworthy, artist playpen during the quarantine period. In February 2020, I hung 19 paintings and 19 clippings in my solo exhibition, went home, walked in the studio, and turned on the lights. This is what I saw — I burst into laughter. why?Well, I paint As rooms and furniture, I’m studying how private interior spaces reflect psychological states and behavioral choices.
At that time, due to social constraints, I didn’t know if anyone would actually see my work. I knew it was important to make it anyway. My stress was felt through confusion. Empty coffee cups, sketches, notes scattered on the floor, cookbooks used as weights to flatten cutouts, pieces of paper, dry paint, fans who accelerate drying time in time for deadlines.
Looking back at the wasteland of this studio, some people were frightened and put all their emotions into the production of their work. Draw, draw, mix, cut, glue, peel, rub, sand, etc. It was one of the only forms of control I had at the time. This space is still my playpen, but it’s cleaner. Things are getting better now.
When the school closed, I took my kindergarten children 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. She always wanted to help me with what I was doing, so I created a project for her related to natural patterns and symmetry. This is the theme I explore in my work. We enjoyed this exercise so much that we wanted to share what we were doing, so we started inviting other kids to a messy art play date masked in the studio. The pandemic has eroded many of the differences between my work and life in general. During the blockade, I finally decided to try to accept these blurry boundaries. This photo shows that my studio has evolved into a combination of work and family space.
My beloved basement — my mental and physical shelter that spent months cleaning, organizing and decorating. After a few years of maternity leave, when I returned to painting in the midst of a pandemic, I experienced a beautiful kind of confluence during the night’s loneliness here. On the canvas, all the different voices and awareness that work to create harmony in my soul — like a home-like sensation, new yet friendly. The more you immerse yourself, the deeper you will be in harmony. This is something I experience every time I come to the studio. You can be separated from the hardships of the outside world and connect with the world inside me, the truly real space in which I live. My studio is the embodiment of what I love most in the world, and what I feel is my true purpose, to beautify the world with my hands.
My studio occupies a very modest part of my flat: it’s an exclave of about 58.6 square feet [5.4 sq meters] In the living room of my apartment. The floor is covered with cardboard tiles and connected with blue masking tape. Dotted with dirt, traces and traces left by subsequent projects, these slabs tend to constitute a kind of memory of my activity as a painter in this space, which is more decisive than the provisional one. .. This gray and blue grid on the ground defines a calm workspace that is more independent than the living room, regardless of its protection, and keeps it there so that it does not exceed the living environment. In fact, this turned out to be very unacceptable. This is because the balance can be quite tight and the two converge and mix every day. The practicality of this improvised studio is the result of a lasting effort of clear and tidy relocation. This painful exercise is a continuous necessity that never escapes from any stage of work. This is the only solution we take to keep this small studio functional, lively and fruitful.