I have moved to Bath from central London - occasionally missing the buzz but more often appreciating the calm. When looking for a place to rent, top of my mind was finding a studio space. Synchronicity helped too - in Greece, I met an amazing American woman who introduced me to scores of lovely people including a couple staying at the hotel. As we talked, the woman and I found more and more life coincidences: Cambridge schooling, mountains in Pakistan, and then Bath. She, it turned out, was buying a house there to live in one day; I was looking for a house to rent.
So here I am.
And the middle floor of the house is making a fine studio. I have covered the floor with heavy duty plastic, unpacked all my paints, brushes and canvases. I have committed to starting each day there, with my journal and second cup of coffee. From writing emerges the work for the day.
Today I am removing an old painting from its stretchers to re-use. I remember painting it at York College, using a Velasquez painting (old woman cooking eggs) as a starting point to explore and transform. I remember noticing the round shapes all through the painting. And the tenderness of the young boy's face. Connecting it to my boys leaving home. From this exercise, I learnt about leaving space.
Next step - stretching canvas for a new painting..