An Important Milestone
January 2020 marks my 10-year anniversary of being a professional artist!
As I've been reflecting on my last decade, I've been flooded with memories of the many and varied studios that have been a home to my work and a sanctuary to my creativity.
Each of these studios holds memories of particular seasons...
styles of work / bodies of work / color phases I went through / the type of music I listened to / the way I moved around / the setup / who I was as a person / who I was as an artist / who I was as an entrepreneur / feelings / insights / growth
And each shift to a new studio represents a shift in me...both as a human and as an artist. When you move studios you not only have to clean up the past, but you also have to set a new rhythm and flow for the future.
Each of my individual studios has helped me understand, more and more, my individuality...who I am and how I work best.
My first studio, coming out of college, was in an old, vacant building in the heart of downtown Fargo, North Dakota...
The space was raw and full of debris.
There was no running water or electricity. I could only paint by daylight and had to bucket water in. Summer was hot. Winter was cold. This studio deepened my connection with nature and its elements.
Looking back, the conditions were far from ideal. However, I didn't realize it back then because I was on such a high about having my own space for the first time.
Even coming out of college, I created big art. That studio was the first place I could spread things out a bit.
There was such a sense of freedom there...
No syllabuses. No deadlines.
But with that freedom also came a lot of fear...
Who am I with no one telling me what to do? Can I still create?
I was young and naive.
But, also...
Passionate and resilient.
That studio produced my first solo exhibition out of college - First Dye - and many commissioned pieces.
I was in that studio for about a year, until I moved to my second studio...
My second studio was very different than my first one!
It was in a brand new building still in Fargo, but no longer downtown...
A vacant space on the second floor...large, empty and all windows!
Because of the huge amount of space, I didn't have to stack canvases. Because of all the windows, I still painted mostly by natural light. But because of the electricity, daylight was no longer a necessity.
In that space, I landed my first large commission for the biggest mall in North Dakota. They not only commissioned me for six paintings but also the printing of those paintings onto tile that would be installed in one of their hallways. That was the first time I worked with a team - engineers, contractors, interior designers, and architects - to help the vision come to life. During that time, my appreciation for my Interior Design minor definitely deepened.
That studio is also where I created - It's Not About You - the second solo exhibition of my career.
From that studio, I moved to my third studio (which was actually in the same building, on a different floor)...
That studio was downstairs...
No windows, minimal cell service...which meant I often got lost in my work. When I was there, I would have no idea if it snowed, stormed or turned from day to night.
In that bubble, protected from all environmental influences and in a sort of time warp, I created the work for my TEDx installation, Lost in Translation solo exhibition, and my first museum show - Beyond Convention - at the Plains Art Museum.
When I moved out of that basement studio, I didn't just move across town, but across states to Chicago...
When I would visit Chicago when I was young, I always had the thought that I would live there, long term. I loved that it was a big city in the Midwest. However, Chicago ended up being a temporary move...it just didn't feel right.
So I unexpectedly found myself back in my hometown of Bismarck, North Dakota and that was the location of my fourth studio...
My thought was that I would move to Bismarck for a couple of months and figure out what I was doing. So, at first, my fourth studio felt like a temporary space.
That time was filled with a lot of questioning...
What am I doing? Do I still want to be an artist?
It was as if I had outgrown my young, naive self.
A couple of months of transition turned into a year and that may have been the first time I truly surrendered to the fact that life doesn't always (or often) adjust to my timelines.
I didn't create very much during that time, but I did get an opportunity that I decided to jump on...
A chance to show my work at Art Basal in Miami Beach, Florida!
Slowly, I returned to my work and began feeling more at home in my studio.
It was during that time that I first started experimenting with mixed medium over my screen prints. Prior to that, I was only doing oil on canvas paintings. So it was in that studio that I tapped into a whole new style for me!
It was during that time I realized my studio was not a temporary space and I was no longer in transition. I made a choice to stay in Bismarck.
After making that choice, I started painting a lot more and I ordered the largest canvases I could at the time.
However, when it arrived, I freaked out!
That blank canvas hung on the wall and I stared at it for over a year. I didn’t touch it.
Then one day a photographer contacted me. He was documenting the workspaces of different North Dakota artists and asked if he could photograph me painting in my studio. I hadn’t had press in a year so I agreed.
While he was shooting, it became clear to me it was time...
I took a deep breath, followed my instinct and dipped one of my largest paintbrushes into black paint, stepped up on a ladder, and made the first, bold marks on that large canvas...
That piece took me a long time to complete. In fact, after that day when I made my initial black marks, I didn’t touch it again for over three months.
But once it was complete, I felt like a new person and a new artist.
I entitled that piece, "Rebirth" and ended up doing an entire solo exhibition around that piece and theme which was also entitled, "Rebirth."
I was back at it, in full force!
That studio was also responsible for all the work I showed during my first year at the Celebration of Fine Art in Scottsdale, Arizona.
After returning from Arizona that year, I moved across town to my current studio...
The move was one that I resisted at first, but came at the perfect time...I had accumulated a lot of stuff in the other studio and it gave me the opportunity to detox and tidy.
Although my current studio is smaller than the one before it, I have grown to love it...it feels cozy, tight, intimate. I even have my very own coffee bar in this studio and I'm happy to say that I have made this studio my own since day one!
This studio doesn't really have windows, but it has big garage doors that can open. That perk in combination with it being on the ground level means there's ease for me when it comes to transporting work and supplies.
Plus, it allows for two very different experiences...if I want to get lost in my work (like when I was in my basement studio) I can keep the garage doors closed, but if I'd prefer to be more connected to the elements, I can open them.
This studio is where I completed the work for my solo exhibition - #nowords - and it's also where I created work for my second year at the Celebration of Fine Art in Scottsdale, Arizona.
Eventually, this studio alone became too small to house all my work so I got another space nearby...
While my other studio is cozy, this studio is for bigger scale working.
In fact, this second studio is where I created my largest work, to date. It's a piece entitled, "Prayer on Repeat" and you can read all about it here (just scroll down a bit).
My second studio has a very different feel. When one studio isn't working for me, I'll go to the other. This helps shift my energy and helps me work through creative blocks.
It was in both of these studios that work was created for - connected. - my most-recent, joint exhibition.
I get asked all the time...
Why don't you move to LA or New York?
While I don't know what's ahead, I do know I love the Midwest and what it's offered me to this point. It's given me space to grow and as I reflect back on all the studio spaces within its midst that have helped make me who I am today, I am touched by the tapestry of life I see being woven.
Here's to the decade ahead!
Happy New Year!
Cheers,
