Land-o-Johanna

Ode to a studio! I wrote a gushing blog post about my studio a few months ago, when I first moved in, and I'm happy to report that the lovefest is still going strong. Oh I could hug it's yellow walls, kiss it's grimy floor, caress it's paint caked table tops...and I DO, which gets me some pretty strange looks from the other folks in the building.

There are two natural sources of light in my studio, one that leads out to the hallway of the building and looks onto the blank windows of other artists studios, and the other is a skylight. Most of the other folks that have a space like mine in the building, cover up their window that leads to the hall so they aren't on display, but I've left mine open. I thought that this would help with feeling less isolated when I'm working, and I think it's done the trick. Folks are constantly waving or popping their head in to say hello, which I like very much, but I've found there are some limitations with this kind of window. First of all, nose picking is out. So is napping, table top caressing, mindless prolonged staring, tantrum throwing, weeping, and paint throwing. Not to say that I don't do those things in my studio (in fact I do, pretty much all of the time..) but I've had to come to accept that there will always be someone who witnesses it, which can be pretty mortifying. Especially if that person is a twelve year old viola prodigy who stares at you through the glass while you are crying (did I say crying? I meant unabashedly sobbing) at particular poignant moment in your audio Harry Potter book, thank you very much.

When the question first came up about what tool we couldn't live without, I immediately thought of my pen and ink. I thought and thought about how much I love my dip pens, so much that I came into the studio the other day, ready to take some photos for this here blog, when suddenly, I couldn't find one in the whole studio. Not one! I searched endlessly. Finally I came to the realization that I must have left them all accidentally at the slop sink in the hall the night before when I was cleaning up, and maybe the janitor threw them away?

It was the strangest thing, because I was forced for the rest of the day to work around not having my dear dip pens, and it was nearly impossible! It really made me realize just how much I need them. And secretly...and not so secretly, just how much I love them.

I replaced them with new, sharper tipped ones yesterday, and I spent a good part of today singing their praises. Dipping them endlessly into the waterproof black india ink, and drawing on every surface I could find, making up songs to them, writing poems to them in swirly inky writing. And I bet that viola kid saw it all...