The studio is your sanctum: an inventor’s laboratory, teenager’s bedroom, mechanic’s garage, séance chamber, fortress of solitude, prison cell, ecstasy machine, wormhole, and launch pad. This is true even if it’s just a dining room table you clear off at night. You are a god here, responsible for everything that happens—and not responsible for anything you don’t want to be. It’s a ritual arena where you will achieve maximum diversity in a minimum of space. Here you can look for new architectures, create your own constellations—and follow through on any idea you wish, no matter how silly-sounding. Rembrandt seems to have worn a magic hat in the studio. Dress in your own abracadabra garments.
In the studio, get into your body. Breathe, pace, do whatever it takes to prepare yourself. Leave something a little unfinished each day; it’ll help you get back into your work the next morning. The decor of your studio will bleed into your imagination, so think about the postcards, personal objects, other artworks you display there, and change them up regularly. The studio should be a place of no shame, where you’re open to surprise and humiliation; where you’re never afraid of silence; where you sit sometimes for hours just looking at what you’ve made, not knowing but musing, letting your mind drift. And tomorrow you come back and work some more.
Exercise
FORGET BEING A GENIUS AND DEVELOP SOME SKILLS
All artists should know the feeling of simple work with raw materials. Try these:
Prune a tree.
Build a clay pot. Learn how to do a basic glaze. And how to fire the pot.
Sew together two pieces of fabric. Maybe add a third. Then a clasp or button.
Use a lathe to carve a wooden bowl.
Make a lithograph, etching, or woodblock print. Please try at least one printmaking technique, even if you do it very badly.
You are now in possession of ancient knowledge.