I am finally dismantling my studio today. Packing up all my art to take with me. We are moving to Wisconsin this month.

Books. Paper. Tools. Unfinished art. Old art. New art. And, a million other things I was hoarding in this room. Packing it all up. Taking it with me.

Looking through everything made me wonder if an artist can ever be a minimalist? I wouldn't know. I'm definitely a maximalist when it comes to my art practice. Anything and everything could "one day" be useful. And, it often is.

I’m feeling the heaviness of what having this studio space has meant in the last couple of years. I dreamt here. I hoped here. I laughed here. I learnt new things. I felt scared. Jumped with joy. Beamed with pride. Smiled with wonder. Danced like no one was watching. I blossomed. My heart is full of gratitude. Here, my art practice grew into something unexpectedly central to my being. I became a little bit more me.

I’ll be forever grateful. To Canada. For this home. This 35 year old me today is thankful for the 32 year old me back in 2020 who felt she could be an artist and then simply started calling herself one without anyones permission. 🫶🏽

The walls of my studio look empty now. I’ve pulled off each and every postcard / pretty artist business card / trinket / doodle that I had stuck up or hung up on these walls. Almost everything is in a bag or a box, short of a few art supplies and some recent collages I'm still finishing up. But, I’ve taken many pictures. I want to remember what it was like to create and think in such a beautiful space. Who knows what my next studio will look like, but I'm hopeful for what the future holds. Who knows what the next family that moves into our home will make of this room, but I hope it’s something weird and fun. I hope this home becomes someone safe space and brings them much laughter, as it did to us.

This room will forever hold a little bit of magic that I’ve felt immersed in a state of flow. Slinging together shapes, ideas and thoughts. Dreaming. Making art.

Cheers,

Sneha