A year of holding space.
Notes from a year in the studio.
A year ago today, my studio was built.
Created by Little Green Rooms, it began as a simple, elegant, purposeful structure - a space to welcome people in, to make work and to see what might unfold when ideas were given room to breathe. At the time, it felt complete. But as with all creative spaces, it has continued to listen, respond and shift.
Over the past year, the studio has quietly shaped itself around how I work. Through hours of making, moments of pause, conversations and reflection, it became clear that the space needed to change - not dramatically, but thoughtfully.
Recently, I’ve reworked the studio to reflect where my practice is now.
There is a quiet corner with a desk and drawing board, a place for experimenting, mark making and sketching. A space to begin gently. To test ideas without expectation. To let curiosity lead before intention takes over.
At the centre of the studio, the floor is now clear. This open space offers flexibility - allowing the room to shift as needed, whether I’m moving through the work myself or reshaping the studio to host workshops. It creates ease, movement and the freedom to welcome visitors during open studios without the space feeling fixed or defined.
A new blank wall has also emerged. An uninterrupted surface where canvases can hang, where scale can expand and where I can step back, move around and immerse myself fully in the work. It invites a different kind of engagement - one that encourages presence, physicality and attention.
What this year has taught me is that a studio is never static. It grows as the practice grows. It asks to be rearranged, softened, opened, and occasionally cleared out altogether.
This space now feels more aligned - not just with what I make, but with how I want to work and how I want others to experience it when they step inside.
As I look ahead, the studio feels ready. Ready to hold new work, new conversations, shared moments and deeper exploration. A place shaped by time, use and intention.
For now, I’m grateful for its first year - for everything it has held so far, and for what it’s quietly preparing to hold next.
A few gentle takeaways
Creative spaces are allowed to change. What works at the beginning may need adjusting as your practice deepens.
Leave room for beginnings. A dedicated space for sketching and experimenting can protect ideas while they’re still fragile.
Clear space creates possibility. An open floor or flexible area invites movement, adaptation and shared use.
Blank walls matter. Space to step back and see your work differently can shift how you think and make.
A studio isn’t just functional - it’s reflective. How you arrange your space often mirrors where you are creatively.
Working spaces can hold people too. Designing with visitors, conversations and exchange in mind adds another layer of meaning.
I hope to see you in the studio soon, to experience the space, the work, and the quiet shifts that have taken place. Book your studio appointment here.
