Well, this is it, my studio. I know it’s not much to look at, a bit messy, kind of small, and the dreaded southern exposure. It’s my space though, and that’s what’s important. My tools and materials are handy; I’ve got my CD player nearby, and hours and hours of Gordon Lightfoot CDs at arms reach.

 I sneak down here whenever I can. It’s not easy sometimes, working full time, attending to my youngest son’s homework with him, and of course making time for my wife. She tells me sometimes I forget I am married, spending too much time with the mistress, (also known as: the basement). Of course too, it seems there is always someone sleeping in the house. The in-laws like to nap, and my adult son shares the finished side of the basement with me.

Creating art sometimes gets noisy. I use that table saw on the left and a drill and hammer to construct my own canvas stretchers, and I use an electric sander during the painting process. Heck, sometimes I can’t even hear Gord on the CD player, but I manage. I must. I am constantly drawn to this space by the creative energy encoded in my very DNA.