The Shed – The Story Behind My Studio

My studio is my happy place. It is bright and airy and full of paints, papers and mark-making tools. I love it! But it wasn’t always like this. It has evolved over the last three years.

When I first started painting my working space was in the house, in the spare bedroom. Our children had grown and spread their wings and I could utilise one of the bedrooms. In those days I was using oil paints and, as many of you will know, they are not the most friendly of paints when it comes to keeping them away from carpet, bed and computer station! The poor carpet still bears a rather dark brown stain – not a good look! But I was happy to be painting and glad of the designated space in which to do it – that is until we had guests, then I had to clear all my equipment away.

My life was turned upside-down in 2017 when my husband was involved in a road traffic collision and received fatal injuries. For a good year after his death, painting was far from my mind but I took great comfort in going to sit in my husband’s workshop, at the bottom of the garden.  Built from scratch, The Shed housed a range of machines, tools and materials.  Mostly woodwork machines and tools but also found or handed down tools and gadgets that he repeatedly assured me would come in useful one day. The Shed was warm and smelt of him and I could feel his arms wrap around me each time I walked in.

The small room off the main workshop was my first project. I cleared it, got rid of many items and white-washed the walls. Here I moved my paints and easel and got back to painting. The room has a window overlooking the garden where I could see anyone coming to the house and watch the birds in the garden.

The small shed studio was great, it gave me a permanent space for my work. It enabled me to find motivation and inspired me to get those paints out again and boy did it feel good! Losing yourself in creative practice is so fulfilling. My other job (teaching) began to take second place when I changed to part-time and the days I was not at work, I was in the studio. The main workshop space meanwhile, stayed as it was, full of my husband’s untouched tools and machines.

A year later, I found myself sizing up that main workshop. It was not being used. No-one was going to come along and start up the machine, grind tools on the bench grinder, drill holes with the huge bench drill or cut wood on the jigsaw. If it was emptied, it would be quite a large space… I organised a ‘Working Day with Lunch’ with a small army of friends and we blitzed it, moving everything worth keeping to the small room and somehow disposing of all other items – giving to friends, donating to charity shops, recycling or taking to the refuse dump. I now had a much larger space, empty apart from the solid workbench. Wow, it was spacious yes, but really dirty with sawdust and cobwebs. A good clean-up later, plus a couple of coats of white emulsion on the block walls and I had myself a bright, clean, fantastic space to move into. The boarded up windows were used as pin-boards for my sketches and inspiration board. Luckily the roof is clear polycarbonate and let in loads of light.

Now, two years later, I have added three windows which let in lots more light, two of them giving views into the little vegetable garden at the back. The addition of the windows really changed the feeling of the space as you walked in. Opening up, rather than closing in. The 1970’s kitchen cabinet which was once full of screws, nails, planers, files, hooks, rivets, and many other things has been upcycled by a couple of friends and now keeps my paints, brushes and other art equipment organised. A bright white lick of paint on the outside walls makes the whole studio beckon to me as I wash up at the sink in the house, looking through my kitchen window. I acknowledge daily that if it wasn’t for the loss of my husband I would not have such an amazing space to do what I love to do. I feel his presence when I am at work (play) in the studio and still feel his warm embrace as I walk through the door.

 

Welcome to my studio