I’ve decided not to add my comments about Paul’s studio to his below. What he has to say is much more important. He offers a balanced description of what a studio can add to the quality of the art and to the joy of making it, but also what the space alone can not be fairly expected to accomplish.
From the artist: “ Young artists are always telling me that if they had a studio like mine, their art career could really blossom. I tell them that Henri Rousseau painted in his small bedroom. He’d have to slide canvases he was working on under the bed at bedtime. Madame Rousseau complained that all her linens and bedclothes smelled like turpentine and linseed oil. Yet, his paintings are in modern museums worldwide.
This Brentwood studio grew over 45 years into the cluttered busy place it is today. And truthfully, I can pretty much lay my hands on anything I’m looking for amid the “organized” chaos. I don’t work well in messiness and disorder. I draw comfort in having, so to speak, familiar touchstones of my history in my environment. Everything is connected, the present and the past, my personal and painting life… are all one.”
“I slip into the studio like it is an old, worn and familiar robe. Except for my dog and, in fall and winter, a fireplace fire, I am alone all night each night in these rooms. Nothing exists outside of the light of my studio.”