I have a lovely pastoral view from my studio. And when I first moved in I was thrilled to have clerestory windows to boot. More natural light! But I’ve pulled all the studio window shades shut in the front room where I spend most of my time. The painting room. Why you ask?
Humid buggy air loitered in the holes where windows and doors once were. The corrugated tin roof was leaky, rusted, and layered over spongy asphalt shingles. On the cobwebbed inside, feathers stuck to chicken wire and translucent snake skins hung from the rafters. The floor was dirt. Its most recent use a convenient and hidden repository of oversized, unwanted, hard to dispose of junk. But it was a sturdy masonry building with a spacious interior.
The below live action video lasts less than 34 seconds but represents 25 minutes of work in the studio (through the miracle of editing and accelerated motion).
Boodle, the studio cat, is attracted to paper and boxes like a magnet to iron. You can imagine the havoc this plays in the studio.
Unfortunately an attitude of entitlement has developed and forced me to ban her when I pack or unpack paintings.