Linda Carson cares about art, and teaching, and teaching art. This is not so much a blog as a growing archive of things she's found it useful to share.
Caution: Linda Carson is not afraid of rude words. Or big words. Or big rude words.
I'm unpacking and moving into a new studio. That sounds exciting and fresh and lovely, doesn't it? Um, no. God, no. Moving a studio means dusty boxes and stairs. Moving a mixed media studio means one of those boxes contains nothing but 36" long cardboard tubes, and the box beside it holds bags of thrift-shop Barbie dolls, used chopsticks, and broken wristwatches. Moving a teaching studio means that I literally have enough chairs, tables, easels, scissors and paint for ten people.
I miss the old studio. I can't find anything in the new one. I'm sure I will eventually settle in. Meanwhile, though, the studio envy is fierce. I console myself by paying virtual visits to other artists' studios.
I respect the authentically Grungy Studio. I long for the late-career Well-Equipped Studio. But I get all misty-eyed over the Lifestyle Studio. Monet was the master. See the gardens at Giverny. In town, he used to paint on a charming little boat on the river. I've shown it here in a Monet painting because I could borrow a photograph from Wikimedia, Le Bateau-atelier (1874, in the Kroller Muller collection, Netherlands). But there's an even more charming painting of Monet at work on the deck, as painted by Edouard Manet.
I'm still looking for an online image of a studio Monet used to paint some of the huge water lily panels late in his career. I've seen a black-and-white photograph in print, and I think you could have landed small aircraft in this joint. I hate to see all that cubic space frittered away on a painter when so many sculptors are going space-hungry!