Returning to my roots

Well, here it is. The New Studio. This is my room, relatively ordered and organised for now. I'm sharing the workshop with my sister, who has a clothes design business (see her blog, Sustainable Styling). We have a large front room, which will serve as cutting room / gallery space, and then two smaller rooms at the back, of which we have one each as workspace. It's right in the centre of the village, Chagford square, which is great. It means it's easy to reach, easy for people to come in, and (for me at least) will force me to be more sociable. I became particularly hermit like last year, working from home, and I don't think it's good for me! Most importantly though, it should make me more disciplined about working. I fell into the classic trap of working from home - I ended up simply doing all the chores that needed doing around the house, and rarely getting around to painting. Of course, it will put added pressure on me too - there is the small matter of rent to be paid, and therefore earned!

But for now, I have decide to treat myself to a 'no pressure' first month. Instead of hurling myself into uninspired paintings in a desperate attempt to earn some cash, I have taken the time to pause, and ponder just what it is about illustration that I love. In moving my possessions to the studio, I boxed up, and then unpacked all my precious books, and in doing this, took many hours, ginger tea in hand, to look through them. To remember again those beautiful illustrations from my childhood, that formed my earliest memories of books, and influenced my first drawings. The books I saved from my own children's youngest days, favourite illustrators working now. So many.....
I grew up on a diet of Arthur Rackham, Aubrey Beardsley and Edmund Dulac, Alan Lee and Lisbeth Zwerger. Shirley Hughes.(Alfie and Annie Rose irritated me, but I adored the story of Dogger).Maurice Sendak's illustrations for 'Charlotte and The White Horse' As I moved on to older fiction I loved the spidery line drawings of Charles Keeping (especially the unicorn in 'Elidor') and Victor Ambrus ( the wild Spanish mustang in 'The Wild Heart'). Honore Daumier's paintings of Don Quixote and Sancho Panza. I bought for my own children 'The Highwayman' illustrated by Charles Keeping - possibly my most favourite of all!
Having children of my own introduced me to a whole new generation of illustrators, and more treasures for my bookshelves. Jane Ray, Jackie Morris, Helen Ward, Shaun Tan, Russell Ayto to name just a few.

My work feels as if it has become more and more stilted of late. I have been feeling constricted, and uninspired, painting from necessity and not from joy. This week I have felt like a child in a sweet shop. Gone is the restrictive pressure of 'painting to order' and instead I am scribbling and sketching. Drawing from life and not from photos. Doing 'rough' paintings as working sketches, and reworking the same theme over and over in a myriad different ways, just to see what happens. Picking up my dipping pen, which is oh-so liberating! I may be broke, but I'm SO happy! It's becoming hard to drag myself away in order to collect the children from school, and I feel deeply resentful of other jobs which take me away from my studio.

A part of me feels panicky - I'm really not sure I can afford to rent this space - so I must get as much work done as possible. A creative frenzy is upon me.
Another part of me feels guilty. Is this not incredibly selfish? Not only am I using something from our meagre household coffers to do something JUST FOR ME, I am very happy and do not want to share my space and creativity with anyone.
Mainly I push these worrisome parts of me away, into the dusty corners, and just feel a slight swagger in my step as I say to friends and family "I'll be in the studio all day". It's so much more satisfying than saying "I'm going to the shed until I can bear the cold and the creeping fungus no more"!

I've even taken a 'commission' from my daughter. She of the 11 owls.
I fear she is going to be a very demanding client!