New Year, New Studio
I was going to simply make a little instagram post about moving my studio to my house but was feeling limited by the word count so here I am on my journal to share about it all with you! There’s a lot to unpack, and why not do it here right?
If you do follow me on social media, you will know that the winter market season was a rough one for me (and many others). With a season of wayyy lower than expected sales also came a sobering realization that I simply could not afford to keep my studio any longer. I was disheartened by this, and feelings of disappointment, anger, and like I had somehow failed were simmering to the surface. I had been in that space for nearly two years and it was a place where I did a lot of healing after the traumatic loss of my Aunty in early 2021. It was the space I went to so that I could find myself again. Through art, through cloth, through plants, through a welcome and quiet solitude I was gradually able to see the light once more. For me, it wasn’t just an art studio. It was a safe container to process this immense grief that had been thrust into my life. Places and spaces carry meaning when we live so much of our lives in them, and this space has meant a lot to me. January always seems to bring about some grief or some loss whether immense or miniscule doesn’t it? For me, this year, it was the loss of my studio space. But it’s not all bad, it never really is. So now for some better news. I had A LOT of time on my hands this month which meant I was able to process this change, to metabolize it.
Over the course of the past month I have slowly been disassembling this space I have come to cherish. A cathartic process for certain, but it also gave me time alone with my feelings and thoughts. While this space has been a safe container for the processing of grief, I feel it is also time to move on from it, that it has served its purpose and in ways is now holding me back. I needed that isolation at first but I have come to a place where that is no longer necessary. I am eternally grateful for what was accomplished and processed there but the time has come to move on.
I want to elaborate on some of the things that were hindering me in that space as I grew as a person and as an artist this last year. The studio is in an industrial block, noisy and polluted - the opposite of what my practice is about. My space was a large room with only myself having access to it, but it was also a windowless box. As a natural dyer, I produce a lot of steam in my practice, with volatile plant oils billowing into the air and onto my skin (even too much eucalyptus is a bad thing!). I noticed mold starting to become a thing in that space, and I began to worry about my lungs, and the skin on my face seeming red and irritated - something I equate to those plant oils floating about and landing on my sensitive skin. Then there was the fact that I had to do all of my dye laundry from home, which meant I had to haul heavy, wet dye laundry back and forth, back and forth many times per week, absolutely breaking my back in the process (remember when I developed tennis elbow last summer? This is why!). What a waste of time and energy. This past summer I was the busiest I’ve ever been with my art practice (thanks for the support you guys!), which meant I was spending 10-14hrs each day at my studio to keep up with production for markets. When I should have been out enjoying the fresh air and sunshine, I was alone in a windowless room under fluorescent lighting. It was depressing! All that time at the studio was time away from my home and my aging cat (who also happens to be THE LOVE OF MY LIFE!). My mental health suffered, I could tell my cat was lonely and it broke my heart too. Then there was the cost of it all! The studio itself was nearly $600/month, and I spent who knows what on gas back and forth from my house to there each day. I started to realize that I couldn’t get ahead because there were these added costs hindering any chance of me saving a penny no matter how hard I worked. I felt like I was in a battle between my conditioning and my deep knowing that my worth is not tied to my income but it is a struggle some days I tell ya. So December came and I was sitting with a pit in my stomach about whether or not I was able to pay my studio rent for February when it dawned on me that I need to let go of the space, even if it hurts and feels like a huge setback. I gave my notice and started to process this change.
As I have packed and moved, ever so slowly and intentionally over this month, I have started to see my new studio take shape - on the outdoor covered patio just outside my bedroom, and sewing station in my bedroom - I have begun to accept, and now rejoice in this change. It felt so smooth to bring everything in, with each of my essential pieces of equipment and supplies finding a home without much fiddling around. Going with the flow. Like two split parts of me were coming back together. So yesterday I set up the last puzzle pieces of the outdoor dye studio. The space just feels like it was always this way, it’s cozy, it’s organized, it’s steeped in the essence of my craft, and there’s fresh air to breathe (albeit city air, but still better than the Rock Bay industrial park + no ventilation!). I’m just over the moon looking upon this new set up, what a shift in perspective from last months wallowing, worrying, and despairing!
I have placed my oak sewing table in the centre of the space, facing my little potted garden area - when the sun shines again and the beloved blossoms open once more I will be out here, at home, with a cup of tea and my sewing machine set up so that I can pause and look up at the beautiful little garden I’ve cultivated. I can do dye laundry in my own house, and walk it downstairs to my studio, no driving necessary!!! I can pick flowers from my garden and immediately dive into dyeing with them, WHAT A TREAT!! When I need a break, my old baby cat is here to take a snuggle with (how beneficial for us both!). When I need a snack, my kitchen is right upstairs. This past year as I raced around, I forgot to pack a lunch so many times and either spent money on take out or just didn’t eat at all - again, what an improvement for my physical and mental health. I can actually see my roommates, who I adore! We were two ships in the night all summer as I ricocheted from the studio to markets to my bed. The more I reflect the more comes up for me that this was indeed the right call. I was burnt out and this is an opportunity for me to go lighter and softer in all that I do.
To conclude, and to reflect on some lessons I learned here:
Trust the process even when it feels so frickin’ scary
That our value is not defined by our income status (I’m still so broke but feel such a weight lifted lately!)
That sometimes what feels like a failure or a setback is actually an opening into new possibilities you hadn’t dreamed up yet.
I can’t wait to start this new chapter here, at home, with my cup of tea, and my cat by my side.
