Days are long in the studio once I start painting. I admit it, I’m a terrible procrastinator. It can take me weeks to finish an idea, to complete the necessary preliminary sketches. Sometimes I sit at my desk and don’t even touch a pencil, preferring instead to watch re-runs of Downton Abbey. It can take days to mix one color to my satisfaction.
But once I begin painting, a switch is flicked: this is the part I love, the part that feels like magic. Some days, I am in front of the easel for twelve or fourteen hours. I sometimes paint until 3 am; time slips by unnoticed in those quiet hours, and I am surprised when I finally look at the clock. Even so, it is hard to put down the brush, to finally unplug the pink lights and crawl into bed, with flecks of the day’s paint drying on my hands. Truthfully, those are my favourite nights, where I feel both tired and accomplished, happy and assured that I am where I am supposed to be, and doing what I am meant to do.
My studio. Now you know.