It’s hard to believe that it’s been a year now since I first moved into my current space at Mainframe Studios. Hard to believe in part because of the time warp quality of the past couple of years, but also because my tenure at Mainframe started, not in the studio from which I write this blog post, but a floor above as the third Drake University Artist in Residence in studio #411.
In the now three years that I’ve been here, this building and this community have undergone many changes, yet I continue to feel more at home in this space and among the fellow artists around me.
Since moving into my very first studio, I’ve opened my space and my creative process to the community for monthly First Friday open house events and hosted workshops for the public as well as close friends.
My second move, down the hall on the fourth floor to a shared studio (while third floor renovations were underway) impressed upon me the necessity of some upholstered furniture in my (eventual) permanent space and provided a respite from my new job teaching art and design at Grand View University.
And my final move to the third floor reminded me of the importance of asking for help (after moving a seven-foot long IKEA table by myself and nursing the resulting sore back!). Now #325 boasts the first wall I’ve ever painted in a space I call my own–made possible by the help of two good friends, one bottle of wine, and one hallway dance party on a single Saturday night!
It’s now a space that is ‘unapologetically me’ and ‘such a happy space’ as told to me by friends and numerous visitors on First Fridays. Indeed, it is my happy space. Which is why I’m excited to share my studio for a variety of workshops this summer–the first in this space and the first since the pandemic began.
Certainly, I’ve needed these four walls both as solace and support amid challenges of the past couple of years. But every day I’m here, I’m reminded of the importance of sharing my art and my experiences with those around me. The three partial walls of my studio don’t muffle the hustle and bustle of other artists and visitors going about their days. And most of the time, I wouldn’t it want them to. These open walls are an invitation to provide feedback for a neighbor’s current project or more often than not, offer a cup of coffee or glass of wine to a friend next door. It’s a reminder that I am part of something bigger when I’m here.