I went back to my studio on Friday only because I had a scheduled meeting that was cancelled. I only continued to my studio because I thought it was good to challenge the inertia settling into my bones. I only went to my studio to pick up some art for an upcoming exhibition - may as well. The studio is frozen in time. My birthday presents from two Marches ago still sit left where they were unwrapped along with a cup of mouldering tea and brushes left in the sink. The air was damp and too still. The tools were lonely -
The paintings shuttered inside for over a year no light, no banter, no community. I made myself stay in the studio for an hour, trying to find a spark of creation in the windowless room. A place I have spent so many hours-
The room felt hollow and collapsed. A punishment rather than a prize. A lonely place where no one knows your name and you pay for the privilege.