Because I live in a two bedroom apartment shared with the husband and our kid, “Rainey” the cat, one would think – given our kid doesn’t require bedroom furniture – my studio would be neatly arranged in the spacious second bedroom. That was the original intent when art supplies became part of the interior landscape, but to date the paint, easel and canvas hold a prominent and very messy spot in the corner of the living room, right by the window with a view (okay it’s a view of street lights, power lines and roof tops, but it’s still a view).
Despite the seemingly illogical choice of spaces to practice my craft I’ve decided I prefer to paint there, and have decided to continue painting there. My husband likes having me in the same room when I paint. He likes my company (even though I’m usually busy interpreting the language of color and conversing with canvas), and enjoys watching me create.
Sitting next to the window is inspiring. Even a view of urban cityscape provides food for the imagination: Birds perched on power lines become living sheet music with the presence of their tiny bodies placed like notes on the wire; shingle-covered trusses in different colors and manner of repair take on a colorful character that begins to morph into personality of the neighborhood, consistently standing by our side like an old friend, or Tammy Wynette.