Inside the Artist's Abode.

I don't really have a studio in the true sense of the word. My house is kind of just an explosion of excess paintings and supplies, much to the chagrin of my roomate. And while having paintings all over your walls does brighten up the ol' pallette of the apartment, it's more a constant reminder that I need to keep working. There's always work that could get better, there's always paintings that didn't succeed, there's always interesting photos to take, there's always interesting compositions to consider. It makes for great inspiration, great eye candy, great for self-admiration...But it also does the opposite. Putting the art in your face everyday. Always critiquing, calling out imperfections, likes and dislikes, good and bad. It forces you to take accountability for the work that failed, sitting idly in the corner, just as much as it glorifies the pieces you like. It creates a constant, unending struggle of "finished or not?" The pieces never "end" they just slowly grow on, or away from me till I can truly say whether or not the piece is successful...sometimes months, sometimes years...

....but to tell the truth, I don't think I'd have it any other way.