When I was 20, I had a job working for a chef who behaved like a 3 year old genius. He made exquisite food, he frequently had tantrums- yelling and throwing pans. He sold me good wine at cost. After the last meal was served and the guests had left he would plug in his guitar and, while I finished cleaning the kitchen, he would rock out. Eventually I moved away for art school, a couple of years later his business fell apart. Later I learned he had an addiction- sad news, but not that surprising I guess. He was incredibly talented and inspired. I hope he has had another chance at success, it's rare that I eat a meal as good as one of his.

Lots of people have phrases that define them. Phrases that fill the empty space, phrases that get muttered in passing. Phrases that they use so much, they can claim ownership. This chef had one such phrase:

"I see, said the blind man as he picked up his hammer and saw."

A painfully slow process full of starting and stopping- the garage to studio conversion. It took a long time to clarify my intentions. I worked with a couple of friends who are architects to refine my vision. Though I didn't end up going with any specific 'plan', our discussions helped clarify my aesthetic: Functional, Simple, White on White, Louise Nevelson, Reclaimed, Clean, Comfortable, Light. Finally this winter I moved my equipment out and got to seriously working on the space.

I had a notion of the transformation I was working on, but I could not truly see it until I picked up my hammer...

With a translucent top, the storage container has surprisingly beautiful light.

The project means a lot of demolition and dust making, tearing out an old flat roof that was enclosed by a pitched roof, raising the ceiling, insulating, new garage door, cabinetry, wiring, plumbing, the list goes on. Fortunately, in recent weeks the list has gotten shorter. I am near completion. Most of the labor is my own, a lot of the 'how to' has come from friends or the internet.

It's interesting working on this in fragmented installments of time. I have a list of things I can do when everyone is out of the house, and a list I can work on when my family is asleep. Because of this, I am not proceeding in a linear fashion. Mostly it's hammers and saws by day, caulk and screws by night.

Claiming a piece of the attic, this panel ceiling defines a new boundary.

As the project evolves, I get more involved with the details, and the energy shifts. Instead of just creating utilitarian space, this is its own artistic exercise. I am building not just a studio, but a beautiful functional sculpture of a studio. Having such a space will effect my practice. Soon I will begin a performance in the space called, making art. I can hardly wait to get there.