I Cleaned My "Studio" Today

It’s been about six months since I created anything new. Working through a complicated end to a complicated relationship and the loss of my last living grandparent — I fell into a mechanical routine of work, gym, sleep, repeat... The time wasn’t totally devoid of positives, but I did lose sight of art.

Surely enough the piles began to form on my studio table and shelves. First a book, then another…some papers, a second keyboard…chargers, cables, and copious amounts of dust.

Then suddenly, on September 23rd my world reopened. I hadn’t been out of North America since 2019, primarily driven by an anxiety issue that burrowed its way deep into my psyche. Defying therapies and objective facts, even the thought of stepping foot in an airplane filled my veins with ice despite my having done so extensively in my life. Recently I’d still driven to interesting and impactful vacations, but without a more tangible connection to my Eastern European heritage, a part of me goes missing. By the grace of God, and in the words of a song by Joe Kaplow which I’ve held near and dear for some years:

I said I was going and I went
The scariest thing that I’ve done yet

I purchased a sketchbook and some drawing implements in Budapest on my fourth day from a store called “Úristen! Festek! Művészellátó” (I don’t think I’ll ever understand Hungarian) — allowing myself the option to write down ideas or sketch if anything came to me. I’ve returned with 28 pages filled and a goal to complete the rest over the coming weeks.

Just as I didn't have a clear objective embarking on my 40-odd days in Europe, I similarly don’t yet know what I’ll create from these experiences, but I have a distinct drive to do so. These posts will help me keep track of ideas, paintings, drawings, etc, as they ripen. This is all to say: I cleaned my workspace today. Papers have been filed, boards cleaned, dust wiped, brushes organized, pencils sharpened… and now it finally feels usable again.

As you can see, I use the word "studio" generously... it's a corner of a downstairs room, but it's more than enough.

During the lead-up to my trip, my uncle encouraged me to memorize Psalm 8. On the final Sunday before my flight I had (only) made it about halfway. I hadn’t gone to church but I was listening to the broadcast from home. A responsive reading appeared on the screen and I froze. It was that specific Psalm, ending with the specific verse I was working on. Call it a random <0.001% chance if you wish, but it was then that I more fully understood that I had to go.

what is man that you are mindful of him,
and the son of man that you care for him?
Psalm 8:4 (ESV)