It’s a bitter sweet moment to leave a studio space. The space becomes your own, you take it over with your things, spend long hours within it. You eat, sleep and live within that studio, and make. This is the space in which you connect with materials, explore ideas and follow creativity down the path of making.
Often this space is temporary, and even knowing that it’s a difficult thing to leave. I spent the summer working in a storage unit (to hear how that came about you can read my earlier blog). I knew this would last only the summer, as I am returning to my final year of graduate school 8 hours away. That doesn’t make the process of emptying the space easier. Pulling art off the walls, packing up notes and dissembling (possibly) the best dremmeling table ever crafted.
As I removed the last of the items from the temporary den of creativity, I discovered remnants. I had been viewing the evidence of my stay accumulate for the duration of my summer in the hot box that was my studio. However it was not until I was leaving that I realized the interesting marks I was leaving behind. The drips of paint that accumulated on the floors of this space abstract paintings in their own right.
Unable to leave without taking this with me in some way, I photographed the abstract impressionist masterpiece that was my studio floor. Who knows, these photographs may just find their way into other works born in other studio spaces.