A better place?

Nine years ago while still living in the bus, I built a simple storage room and office plus spare bedroom. Then, when I moved into the main house it sort of reverted to a small studio space for visiting artists. The problem, however, was that the space was relatively dark and every artist that tried to paint inside this room had some difficulty with the lighting. There was also the small problem that a fire almost burned the place down five years ago and the walls had a sort of sooty look to them.

So…… three coats of white paint, new curtains, new floor, new shelves and new light fixtures add a whole new chapter to this room. Climbing up and down the ladder to paint the ceiling was challenging, but, wow, what a transformation.

The next artist-in-residence, Sally Horne, arrives tomorrow. Hopefully, this new studio will be a joy for her to work in.

I’m also very much aware that fancy facilities don’t necessarily translate into inspired work. Even in my commercial grade, stainless steel, spotless kitchen, I can burn the toast. The question can even be raised: “Can one be given too much?”. If we’re surrounded with luxury, does the artistic muse fall asleep? Was my artistic output greater or lesser during the four years from 1992 till 1996 when I had no electricity, no running water, no toilet, no telephone?

Nothing human manufactured, anyway. And herein lies a possible answer as there were plenty of “earth” luxuries. Windgrove was a beautiful then as it is now so the key might be to balance the comforts with the discomforts.

Last week, when 12 year old Vincent and I sat on hard granite stumps and shared stories, we didn’t seem to mind the lack of a leather lounge suite.

Then again, there is the saying: “The mind can only absorb what the butt can endure.”