"When we identify ourselves in time, we create more separation. The place of 'oneness' is timeless. It seems the intellect can fathom an existence without spatial dimension much more readily than without temporal dimension."
I kind of "get" that. I read Ram Dass' book, REMEMBER BE HERE NOW years ago. (Book) I set myself to think about this more, and then got derailed into practical interpretations of "space and time" instead. Once again, space and time became decidedly UNcosmic! In the spirit of "going with the flow", I decided to write this post about space and time in the personal, mundane sense that I know so well in my art studio. I can't insert images of my working space here, because it is so full of works for my upcoming show which haven't been exhibited or published yet. I am adding some vignettes of supplies though.
above: a studio supply cabinet
My studio is a reasonable size and working space, even huge compared to some studios of friends, but a staircase that chops it in half leaves it functioning like two rooms instead of the one open space I dream of. Nevertheless, one of my installations for a new piece needs a long, long wall. My longest studio wall has visual interruptions of an ugly baseboard heater, a 7.5' ceiling, and a large worktable. I can't take a complete photo of the piece, let alone do a complete set up of it. I've tried draping the wall, floor, and heater in gray felt for previous photo shoots of other floor standing sculptures, with less than stunning results. Now, with a couple of newly created floor sculptures, I've created an obstacle course to and from the adjoining garage. It's hazardous walking, to put it mildly.
Above: studio storage room
To solve at least the photography part of my problem, I'm subletting the studio of a friend who is going to be away for part of the summer. Even if I do nothing more than re-shoot some pieces and build and paint a pedestal or two, it will help me to breathe. The hardest part will be moving everything there, back home, and then again to the gallery (Rider University Art Gallery in Lawrenceville, NJ) several weeks later for the show. I'm already exhausted in anticipation.
I actually like having a studio at home, and it will be a big adjustment working 1/2 hour drive away. I'm in the habit of running downstairs for an hour or two or three here and there...and it's nice that the dog can enjoy the yard while I work at home. There is no commuting time, so I "save" an hour or more a day. That will all change in the month ahead. My home studio has a sink, the most shallow sink ever, but a luxury nonetheless. The floor is covered in outdated but rather neutral vinyl tiles, on the battered side. This is a good thing, because I don't have to worry about messing up the floor and ruining it, but bad in that the pattern is still screamingly there in photos.
Below: studio floor
Because I work in many different media I have lots of different kinds of supplies, from all kinds of paints and canvases to ceramic glazes and clay tools, linoleum sheets and printing inks, lots of papers, etc.
Below: studio brushes
Below: some of the studio pencils
Below: studio toaster oven (with in-progress "wall flowers")
"Why", you might ask, "does she need a studio toaster oven?" Well, there are some thermo-hardening ceramic glazes that I bake in that, usually on top of conventional kiln-fired glazes or stains, to tweak the colors.
All of the art supplies take up space. Lots of space. The finished artworks take up lots of space, too. So space is always on my mind when I'm working. Time, however, sometimes stands nearly still in the studio when things are rolling along beautifully. "...The place of 'oneness' is timeless...." All artists love that sense of '"oneness" like an addiction. Most days I do have to keep my eye on the clock in order to accomplish my non-art duties. It is a very rare treat when I can ignore time galloping along and work seemingly outside of its constraints. My muse is just cooking hot lately though, and every time I plan to clean up my studio a bit, she opens the floodgates and I end up starting another new piece. And every artist knows, when your muse is with you you'd better go along for the ride or else she may just up and disappear. That just wouldn't be worth it in a practical OR cosmic sense! It's as if there is a muse-artist contract that stipulates, "BE...HERE...NOW".
