The studio is the heart of the artist's incountry. Here you are off the map of others, but in the sweetest spot of your own. The metaphors grow as lush as the garden that surrounds mine.
The path through the garden to the studio has always overlayed every fairytale and science fiction journey in my library. But the actual walking has a tactile resonance of its own physicality. In its domesticity it includes the wild of weird bugs, fantasitic birds and unending story buried in its greenery.
The walk to is part of the events that take place within.
I am not always there-being most of the time in NYC--where my studio is in the same room that I live, work, and eat. But there is still that resonance of heart in the wild when I get to the wall I paint on.
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