In My Studio

Earlier this year, I moved into my own studio. It’s in a historic building that was converted to house artist studios, and it has been a real pleasure working there for the past months. I‘ve never had my own studio before - my creative practice has always been confined to whatever space I could find at home.

A very german view out the window: Green fields, and the Autobahn in the distance.

The idea of having my own room, where I could do whatever I want, felt wonderful in theory. In reality, I remember standing in the empty studio space after I had signed the contract, looking around and thinking “Oh god, what have I done?!”. I think what I did, was this: I did something new, and that is always scary. But I did it anyway, and I have not regretted it once.

Moving into the studio feels like an ongoing process, more like I am growing into this space. It is about more than putting stuff into a room (which I have definitely accomplished - so much stuff!). But it is also about expanding my work, about having the space to develop new ideas and experiment. I thought a lot about what having my own studio space meant to me. Before I started moving in, I made a vow to myself: That I would do whatever I wanted in this room. That I would be myself, unapologetically, and put that into my work.

I have only been here for a few months, but already I feel a difference in the way I work and how I think about myself as an artist. The possibilities for creativity here are almost endless. I easily become lost in the flow of work, but it has also become a place for recharging. For playing on the wonky old keyboard that my daughter drew on as a toddler, or quietly looking out the window and listening to the cars whooshing by in the distance. To me, a big part of being an artist is about listening - not necessarily to cars, but to the world in general, and to myself. Having a physical space to work in, has also provided me with more mental space to listen, and be myself.