Studio and Home Life Adjustments
Somewhere along the Natchez Trace in the USA Back on Land
Somewhere along the Natchez Trace in the USA Back on Land
This painting is of a scene along The Natchez Trace. It's East of The
Mississippi River, yet about as Western as I had seen at that time
traveled in 2019, save being West of The Mississippi, or in a museum.
I have often thought and pondered how so many artists' studios seem to
be contained in a space within their home. I belong to one organization
that has a special series for eblast pictures now and then of studios
that artists send in to them, and they in turn send out to their
members.
Well, I'll just tell you it's the PSA. Pastel Society of America. They
began sending out studio pictures from members of their special spaces
in this decade. I suppose like so many organizations with members
spanning the breadth of age like the top 2/3's of the population, they
were experimenting with how to inspire a new group of post pandemic
artists to get going again, after so much grief.
One way was to share those safe places where they created, and found
their joy and sorrow mingled. I have enjoyed looking at them. I find
studios where Northern light spills in abundant windows, looking out
onto inspiration. I have seen neat tables and organized supplies,
standing at the ready, for the moment of inspiration to strike, or for
the regular 9-5 painting life.
Aware as I am of these spaces meant to inspire, I seek studio versions
in person as well. How many among us have gone on artist studio tours?
From museum's recreating a famous artist's space within the ticket
purchasing confines of a building in a major city, to the simple home
we find in a town traveled to for other purposes. I love the discovery
of how others create.
My first visit to an artist studio was near my home.
While traveling home one fine day, with my young son, who had selected
to allow his brother to indulge in an adventure camp without him, we
had an adventure of our own. We took a road less traveled, as I often
do to explore. We saw a man walking along the road. We waved, and he
waved back. We had our windows rolled half way down for the breeze
which just seemed rude to me to keep that way, so I rolled them all the
way down, and slowed to a crawl, and gave a salutation to the man,
walking. We introduced ourselves. I was studying sculpture and
printmaking, was the easy reply when he asked, "What do you do"?
He grinned, and said he was a bit of a sculptor himself, among other
things. Well we, began an easy conversation, and he invited me to park
my vehicle and bring my son and myself down into the woods beyond a
nearby large gate to a wooded property.
So of course being invited to view a personal studio of an artist,
seemed good to me. I thought a quick prayer of thanks for the
serendipity of the occasion.
Holding onto my son's hand as I often did when walking, I spied an
actual log cabin. To my surprise and delight, we entered into what
seemed like a time-traveling adventure. Once inside, I realized my
small companion was being instructed not to touch any weapons, because
every one was loaded. I wanted to hold both his hands at that time! I
smiled and a little nervously, bent down to eye level and asked my
young son if he understood that danger of touching a weapon, and to
keep his hands in his pockets if he needed to do that to avoid touching
them. He nodded at me with his eyes wide at the adventure his brother
was missing out on that day.
The studio, that first studio viewed was the closest to my studio I
have ever found only because it was filled with antiques. I got my
start in married life by adding an antique business to our
relationship. I was partners with my husband and a friend in that
endeavor, which began to add more and more art and antiques to my home
the very year I married my husband.
However, this new friend and artist, that lived in the log cabin with
his wife, had begun his career in painting, and he said, he hadn't been
very good at it, so he switched to sculpture. Every surface tabletop
was covered with sculptures, or artifacts that had been or were waiting
to be sculpted.
So flash forward to my current family requests: Please create and
contain your art to a room or two, at least on the surfaces mom. The
same son, that toured that studio with me is the only one who knows
that my art was creeping into that "cabin scene" where every room and
table top was cluttered with art and vintage/antique objects to paint.
So this year is another year of organizing my spaces. There is a
soothing aspect to organizing items and materials. I see the photos of
artists' studios, in PSA eblasts to members, and feel like those
artists have already cleared the hurtles of organization. They have
already found their balance between creating and living a life that is
away from their work.
Where I have at times felt creativity stifled by my studio space being
overflowing, so much so that every closet, save my son's, is full of
art or art supplies. I looked and saw myself creating in our family
room this decade, I created in our breakfast room, I created in the
formal dining room, I created in my studio, I created in my guest
bedroom, I created outside my home. I have hung art in every room,
including the laundry room. I have hit my limit in overflowing art and
supplies as far as my husband is concerned. I can not share a picture
of the space I create in my home, as I would be sharing a tour of my
home, and it would take a video.
So for now, I am using my supplies to box and make ready for shipping
my art. I am creating where ever I find myself at the moment that I
decide to create. Yet, I am also listening to the heartbeat of my
family. I am hearing their cry out to claim their home space back in
unity with me, not in spite of me.
I have engaged this once young in stature son, who is now 6 foot 5
inches tall, to assist me. We are making an alternative space for
overflow creation by cleaning out the garage. We are reclaiming the
guest bedroom for guests. We are carrying ready to ship art to the
climate controlled storage space, we are insulating our attic above the
garage, for home items like decor that can be moved up there from the
garage for seasonal storage. He put together a sofa bed that has a
little attached sketching table on an arm, that we agreed I could
either sketch an idea on or eat a meal at while sitting on this new
furniture for our home. In that way I have a room for my computer and
to take photos for my on-line shop, that is apart from my studio. Like
having a studio in one room and an office in the other. This office
couch that he put together for me doubles as a guest space by
converting to a sofa bed. I love that the attached arm on the side of
the sofa, gives a small nod to sketching out a quick idea before moving
to my studio.
He has banned me from adding any more art to his room. He is kind. He
notes my progress at reclaiming our home for ourselves and not just for
me and the creation process. No one ever tells us as artists, that the
drive to create can seem to take over at times. Sometimes at 3 in the
morning, sometimes at 5 am, or at Midnight after a mere one hour nap.
Usually we just hear about creative blocks. My creative blocks have
only from from cluttered space. That is why my creativity invaded
uncluttered rooms. The drive to create was more powerful than the
desire to stop creating long enough to declutter my three studio
stations, within my studio.
A balance of home life is more important to me than having a non stop
creation process going in my home. A studio picture is what I would
like to share with PSA this year, maybe on Dec. 31st 2024, but this
year.
I want to be able to take a picture of at least one space for my work,
and maybe my garage space for works that need more ventilation, (as I
work in oils as well). I would like to take at least 2 pictures of two
spaces that had been overrun by my work, and that have been restored to
the family. not just restored but that are functionally adding to the
satisfaction of my family and shared activities.
I have ideas for pairing down my belongings and have had a yard sale,
(my first in this home of 22 years), just this past month. It's
progress. It's baby steps, or toddler steps, or adolescent steps, and I
have a son who is aware that I was never as cluttered as the cabin in
the woods, and never as dangerous.
Amy Carter Ishmael
(To view some of my art and help me in my decluttering quest, you may
visit my gallery for art, antiques, collectibles at
www.rubylane.com/shop/amy-carter-ishmael-art)
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