Studio Saturday afternoon.

Friday morning studio.

It is another cool morning, but the snow is melting and hints of spring are visable. But only if you consider a winters worth of dog poo a hint of spring.

Let there be light.

I’ve never been too fussy about light quality in my studio. I like to have enough light to be able to see what I’m doing, but I’m not the sort to go on and on about the perfect North light. As a result I’ve always been able to work in just about any space I’ve had to. I guess if I was a portrait painter or a landscape painter I’d be a bit more concerned about light quality, but as it is all I really need is to be able to tell what colour I’m using and where the tip of my brush is.

Getting lost in work.

I’m in here.

There is a storm raging outside, and inside the studio is pushing against the seams.

Floor as still life.

The Studio Floor.

The floor of my studio is as pretty as a painting. If you like that type of painting. It is also a many layer historical record of my odd interests and obsessions.