The bain of my life. I live in a small cottage that I resurrected from dereliction 18 years ago now, in the north west of Ireland. There were cows walking through the old house the first time I saw it. I wanted to have lots of windows to let in all that bright northern light. As a result I have no bloody walls to store my ever increasing “stuff”
I have got better at reducing the stuff. Every 6 months I cull my clothes. I really wear the same variation of leggings, dress and tops. Anything that doesn't get worn in a few months gets given to a friend or charity shop.
Studio storage was becoming stressful. It was affecting my head space. The more work you make, it had to be stored in the ever decreasing footprint of my precious studio. I had been saving images of my fantasy storage system on Pinterest for 5 whole years! Drooling over slim shelves to store pristine A2 sheets of 350gsm paper. With delicious sister shelves to caress my life drawings which increase every Friday morning.
Maybe a subsection to contain half finished paintings. A shelf for packaging stuff. Cardboard and bubble wrap doesn't look so great propping up my window ledges in my hall way, blocking my sweet geraniums.
Along comes my knight in shining armour. A friend with a mitre saw, wood glue and a passion for precision. A week of drawing and measuring and plotting and planning, me dribbling with excitement.
I cannot overstate how fabulous this is. It is nearly life changing. My bestie painter stood and flared her nostrils for 10 minutes in admiration. It has moveable uprights. It has moveable shelves. It is the stuff of DREAMS. I am so happy. It was worth the wait. Get one. You deserve it. Your work deserves it. My head is free to think only of the good stuff, the important stuff.
So if you have a mate that is handy with a saw and stuff, do a barter. You will thank me.
And throw out some shit too.