Three years ago I took the enormous step of claiming a small, rarely used bedroom in our house as studio space.

The idea felt exciting – but at the same time, very uncomfortable! In those days I was not yet calling myself an artist, so having a studio seemed…pretentious.

I’d started out painting at a very small table in the spare bedroom. When I needed more space, I pushed the bed into a corner and installed a collapsible worktable and purchased a little caddy for my expanding materials. I called it my “office” and added a small bookshelf for travel guides and art books.

But when my pleased and supportive partner proposed converting the entire room into a studio, I choked on the word. If he’d asked whether I wanted more space, I’d have been delighted; but asking if I wanted a studio touched a sensitive spot. Why so much sensitivity to a word?

Studio and Identity

For starters, the words studio and artist are closely linked. Artists have studios. Non-artists have offices. It’s a question of identity, and the nomenclature can therefore be a bit tricky for anyone who feels unsure about calling herself an artist. For me, saying “I have a studio” was almost as scary (and affirming) as proclaiming “I am an artist” for the first time.

Claiming a studio space is enormous (regardless how tiny the space might be). It means acknowledging to oneself and then everyone else that you take your artwork seriously. Having a studio means you take yourself as an artist seriously. That you, and your artwork, are worthy of taking up space.

Don’t misunderstand me: I am normally a confident, assertive person with little difficulty taking up my share of space. Seeing myself as an artist was a tough one, though, and the offer of a studio triggered similar uncertainties. I look back at this time now and I wonder, am I the only one who suffered a kind of studio anxiety?

Taking up space

Fortunately, with a bit of time and effort calling myself an artist felt natural, and my studio became central to the routines and rituals of creative practice. I was fortunate not to have to share it with anyone else or any other purpose, so I set it up to suit my taste and practical requirements. Of any room in our house, the studio came to feel the most “me”.

In three years, the little studio filled up. With new materials and new media, with more canvases, and then bigger canvasses. I established a business, which placed additional pressure on the already tight space. Eventually it became clear that I’d outgrown the little studio in the former guest room.

And more space

Just this week I’ve moved into a larger studio space, with nearly twice the square footage, and easier access to running water for clean-up. What a delight! I am really enjoying the process of setting it up to suit my way of working, accommodating both the creative and the business side of things. There’s even room for a couch in case I need a nap. This time it all feels so natural! If home is where the heart is, studio’s where my art is.