As I sweep the floor, mend the walls, clean, put filler in the pin holes, paint, repaint, reduce, edit, assess: I think about years past. The years with Gabi and Phil and the many others who have shared the spaces. The first year was bathed in sunshine while we twiddled thumbs. There was a year of ripe plumbs and red admiral buttereflies, more years of plumbs and apples falling. The year of 2000 visitors (my dad keeping record), and a better year with an audience totaling 79. (It’s not about the numbers.)
And this year. Already exceptional – face masks, disinfectant spray and hand gell.
I have work planned. Visitors can join in. Monoprint, draw or paint, The time is valuable to share or to get on and work alone. It’s time allocated for Open Studios.
I have chased the mess from the back door to the front, in the same direction as the one way route I have devised for any visitor. The flow is heralded by broom, mop and hoover.
I like this time. For what ever follows, the studio is primed and ready.