Art feeds my soul … taking time to create and having a workspace is such a gift to oneself.
I used to have two pugs that came with me everywhere — classes, my job, parties — and kept me company in my studio, snoring or sitting on a chair, watching lovingly as I created. They have since passed on, but I manage to meet amazing dog friends wherever I go. At my studio is Yuki, a large, deaf white shepherd mix. When he sees that I’m at my studio, it’s hard to pry him away from me — he even knows how to open the door of my studio. We became fast friends when I moved in here, and he’s always sure to position himself so that I need to make an effort to get around him, and ready to remind me it’s time for a treat and some love.
In the summer of 2023, I moved into Artspawn Studios, run by Lisa Sheets and Matt Saettler. They purchased this piece of property in Woodinville, Washington, with the vision of creating studios and workspaces for artists to rent. And I’m so glad that they did. The property had an old tractor garage and a barn; and after a complete renovation, they opened it to artists. Currently, there are eight artists in residence here.
I moved in after finding that I needed more space and more serenity. I wanted a space where I could leave the doors open, get some fresh air, and not worry about things that a busy city like Seattle can bring to your doorstep. I have about 180 square feet in a shared space with two other artists. For my space, I decided to set myself up with divider shelf walls so that I could have a sense of my space but be open to the rest of the studio and light. These shelves also allow me to access and display my supplies and treasures from both sides.
I have one shelf of substrates, things which I can build art onto, and one shelf of mediums — wax, gesso, paints and all the things necessary to adhere art to substrates and shape them. The third shelf holds all the treasures that I find out in the world — in secondhand shops, roadside offerings, castoffs from other artists, and hand-me-downs. Some things I will never use and only admire and treasure, while other things are available for being used in a piece of art.
There’s a garage door at the end of my studio, so on warm, sunny days I have all the fresh air I can get. It’s so wonderful. Yuki will sunbathe on the gravel road out front, and I’ll work on my encaustics just inside the garage doorway. Can’t beat that ventilation! I also have a few roll-arounds that I store all my tools in, plus collage papers, vintage photos and documents. I always have art in all stages of life around the studio. Sometimes pieces are put on hold until the right piece of ephemera comes to me. I know when it’s done; it just feels right. It will feel balanced, like the story is complete.
I promised myself with this studio that I would try my best to keep the floors clear so I could move around easily and have a friend or two over on occasion. I’ve mostly kept this deal, and it’s a treat to share my space with a friend, though I spend most of my creating time by myself. I put on some French café music or some old punk tunes and just wander and dig through my treasures.
I’ve been collecting since I was a kid. I’ve always enjoyed going to garage sales and secondhand stores and finding these treasures. It’s all about the hunt. Well, and the find. I once wheeled an old steamer trunk home from a garage sale when I was in college; it was $5. I still have it and love it. The more room I give myself, the more treasures I seem to find. I like to give these things a new lease on life in the form of art.
I will take old French documents, barn wood or tin roof tiles and combine them with encaustic wax medium and some odds and ends to create a time capsule of sorts. This way, these things that have been discarded get a second chance to be appreciated and admired — more for their design than their original function. Whether it’s a torsion spring or a beautiful old pocket watch, there is just so much to admire and showcase.
I like to blend these pieces of history and industry with photographs, or sketches from my notebook. I will adhere photographs with nail, glue or wire … depending on the look I’m going for. Or I will scan and print out my drawings and do image transfers into encaustic wax, so that the toner from the printout actually ends up embedded in the wax when the paper is removed.
I also will forage and collect art supplies from nature. I find small pieces of driftwood, rocks, shells, old rusted pieces of metal. I press and dry flowers from my garden and P-Patch, which is part of the local community gardening program. Each and every piece brings a different energy and feel to my art.
I’ve now done many series of art pieces, one of my favorites being the Travelers series. These pieces look like what I imagine a world traveler would collect in journals: images of flora and fauna, old keys or found beads, photos of people, and letters. Discoveries big and small that create a story.
Another series that I am very fond of is called Dapple. This series uses all recycled, reclaimed materials. The substrates are first covered with French ephemera, then I use alcohol ink and drop it randomly on the paper. This 200-year-old paper soaks up ink beautifully. The ink droplets mimic the way sunlight from a window dances on the floor, and I use different colors of ink and vary the size and pattern.
When I’ve got a good balance of color and pattern, I will lay down encaustic medium over the entire thing, sealing it and protecting the paper and ink. Next up, I add treasures. Sometimes it’s a flurry of Japanese maple leaves that I’ve collected and dried. Sometimes it’s a cluster of hydrangea flowers. I’ve got many boxes of different flora to search through for just the right piece. I will glue these down and then follow with more encaustic medium to protect these delicate organics. If I want to add more, I’ll drill holes in the work and wire down old keys, maybe a small bottle to put dried flowers in, or maybe an old steamer trunk label or printer blocks.
I have been creating since I was a kid. I come from a family of artists. Dad was a mechanical engineer, and is very handy and can make or fix anything. He also has made beautiful jewelry, even my mom’s engagement ring. Mom created everything! Batik, jewelry, oil paintings, sewing, cross-stitch, knitting, gardening, food … oh, the food! We grew up learning how to mend, sew, hammer, build, garden and make jewelry.
I mostly made jewelry and drew and painted until I went to college. I went to Washington State University for a year, where I did quite poorly in regular studies but excelled in art. I transferred to The Art Institute of Seattle, where I studied visual communications in hopes of being able to learn something that I could use to get a job. I thought this was my best path. Thirty-seven years later, I’d say it was the right choice!
I’ve worked all this time as a graphic artist/print production artist, while always doing art and hobbies on the side. I did contract work for many card game companies in the 90s and also had a small jewelry business called Agauricus, a made-up name that signifies people having silver and gold. My goal was to make well-made, beautiful jewelry that people could afford. My jewelry ranged from historically inspired pieces to simple wire work. I used lost-wax casting, cut and soldered pieces and beading.
When I first graduated from college, I opened a little experimental art shop in the Belltown/Denny Regrade area of Seattle. I found an old storefront that was going to be torn down eventually, and the owners just wanted it rented, so I got a deal. I would work full time during the week and make jewelry and artwork in the evenings; and on the weekends, I would open the shop. My sister Susannah had a little shop down the street from me and sold gothic-inspired clothing. I must give her credit for blazing a great path to self-employment for me.
Well, the storefront was a good experiment but was not meant to last. I stayed for less than a year, and then eventually found a house to rent in North Seattle. I was able to expand my jewelry and art studios at this shared house. I had a solarium for painting, an old raw basement for my jewelry equipment, and then my room (which was also my computer room). Here, I would have jewelry open houses where people could come and be social and buy jewelry or just hang out.
Six years later, I bought a little house in Seattle in Greenwood. Originally, I had a room for jewelry and one for painting/computer work. But then I got married and we had to make some changes. So, now I have one room that is my everything room: studio, computer, et al.! And we have built a studio for my husband for his work. We have a lovely little garden, and I have two P-Patches, one in Greenwood and the other in Woodinville, a few miles from my current studio.
Over the years, I went back and forth between renting outside studios and trying to make a workspace that fit into our little house, which is approximately 960 square feet and ultimately too cramped for all the new art mediums I was trying and the tools I had collected.
I had a studio near Alki Beach that was just for my jewelry equipment and served me well during my time making sterling dog and cat name tags. Then there was my very small studio near Gas Works Park, which was within walking distance from my job, so I would walk and create at lunch. The light was amazing and the building was old and very artsy — though a terrible fire hazard.
Eventually, I wanted to try more encaustic work, which would require a heat gun and possibly fire. So, I moved to ActivSpace in Ballard. It allowed me to use mediums that caused fumes, gave me quick access to water, and had a big west-facing window. I installed an extractor fan and started doing more assemblage and encaustics, including my first series. Working in series allowed me to experiment and find my style. I would make a series, find a coffee shop to show in, and then post pieces and sell some on social media.
A few years ago, the pandemic hit and the world got very messy. I needed a quieter place, less city noise and chaos … more tranquility. It was time to make another leap. I found Artspawn Studios and went from 110 square feet to 180 square feet. I had collected so much stuff at my Ballard studio so this extra room was welcome and needed. And in three weekends, I dismantled one studio and created my current studio.
It’s a bit farther from home but gives me so many things I cannot get in Seattle. Every time I enter my studio, I just smile. It’s wonderful to see this big open space with other artists creating … to see all my treasures organized and displayed for me to use … to have dog friends (Yuki, plus Maia, who belongs to another artist in residence) always so happy to see me.
I come out on weekends and days off and chat with my studio mates, enjoy the fresh air and add to my ever-growing collection of inspirational treasures. It is where I make and create to my heart and soul’s content, putting interesting and unique artwork out in the world for others to enjoy.
Art feeds my soul … taking time to create and having a workspace is such a gift to oneself.
I used to have two pugs that came with me everywhere — classes, my job, parties — and kept me company in my studio, snoring or sitting on a chair, watching lovingly as I created. They have since passed on, but I manage to meet amazing dog friends wherever I go. At my studio is Yuki, a large, deaf white shepherd mix. When he sees that I’m at my studio, it’s hard to pry him away from me — he even knows how to open the door of my studio. We became fast friends when I moved in here, and he’s always sure to position himself so that I need to make an effort to get around him, and ready to remind me it’s time for a treat and some love.
In the summer of 2023, I moved into Artspawn Studios, run by Lisa Sheets and Matt Saettler. They purchased this piece of property in Woodinville, Washington, with the vision of creating studios and workspaces for artists to rent. And I’m so glad that they did. The property had an old tractor garage and a barn; and after a complete renovation, they opened it to artists. Currently, there are eight artists in residence here.
I moved in after finding that I needed more space and more serenity. I wanted a space where I could leave the doors open, get some fresh air, and not worry about things that a busy city like Seattle can bring to your doorstep. I have about 180 square feet in a shared space with two other artists. For my space, I decided to set myself up with divider shelf walls so that I could have a sense of my space but be open to the rest of the studio and light. These shelves also allow me to access and display my supplies and treasures from both sides.
I have one shelf of substrates, things which I can build art onto, and one shelf of mediums — wax, gesso, paints and all the things necessary to adhere art to substrates and shape them. The third shelf holds all the treasures that I find out in the world — in secondhand shops, roadside offerings, castoffs from other artists, and hand-me-downs. Some things I will never use and only admire and treasure, while other things are available for being used in a piece of art.
There’s a garage door at the end of my studio, so on warm, sunny days I have all the fresh air I can get. It’s so wonderful. Yuki will sunbathe on the gravel road out front, and I’ll work on my encaustics just inside the garage doorway. Can’t beat that ventilation! I also have a few roll-arounds that I store all my tools in, plus collage papers, vintage photos and documents. I always have art in all stages of life around the studio. Sometimes pieces are put on hold until the right piece of ephemera comes to me. I know when it’s done; it just feels right. It will feel balanced, like the story is complete.
I promised myself with this studio that I would try my best to keep the floors clear so I could move around easily and have a friend or two over on occasion. I’ve mostly kept this deal, and it’s a treat to share my space with a friend, though I spend most of my creating time by myself. I put on some French café music or some old punk tunes and just wander and dig through my treasures.
I’ve been collecting since I was a kid. I’ve always enjoyed going to garage sales and secondhand stores and finding these treasures. It’s all about the hunt. Well, and the find. I once wheeled an old steamer trunk home from a garage sale when I was in college; it was $5. I still have it and love it. The more room I give myself, the more treasures I seem to find. I like to give these things a new lease on life in the form of art.
I will take old French documents, barn wood or tin roof tiles and combine them with encaustic wax medium and some odds and ends to create a time capsule of sorts. This way, these things that have been discarded get a second chance to be appreciated and admired — more for their design than their original function. Whether it’s a torsion spring or a beautiful old pocket watch, there is just so much to admire and showcase.
I like to blend these pieces of history and industry with photographs, or sketches from my notebook. I will adhere photographs with nail, glue or wire … depending on the look I’m going for. Or I will scan and print out my drawings and do image transfers into encaustic wax, so that the toner from the printout actually ends up embedded in the wax when the paper is removed.
I also will forage and collect art supplies from nature. I find small pieces of driftwood, rocks, shells, old rusted pieces of metal. I press and dry flowers from my garden and P-Patch, which is part of the local community gardening program. Each and every piece brings a different energy and feel to my art.
I’ve now done many series of art pieces, one of my favorites being the Travelers series. These pieces look like what I imagine a world traveler would collect in journals: images of flora and fauna, old keys or found beads, photos of people, and letters. Discoveries big and small that create a story.
Another series that I am very fond of is called Dapple. This series uses all recycled, reclaimed materials. The substrates are first covered with French ephemera, then I use alcohol ink and drop it randomly on the paper. This 200-year-old paper soaks up ink beautifully. The ink droplets mimic the way sunlight from a window dances on the floor, and I use different colors of ink and vary the size and pattern.
When I’ve got a good balance of color and pattern, I will lay down encaustic medium over the entire thing, sealing it and protecting the paper and ink. Next up, I add treasures. Sometimes it’s a flurry of Japanese maple leaves that I’ve collected and dried. Sometimes it’s a cluster of hydrangea flowers. I’ve got many boxes of different flora to search through for just the right piece. I will glue these down and then follow with more encaustic medium to protect these delicate organics. If I want to add more, I’ll drill holes in the work and wire down old keys, maybe a small bottle to put dried flowers in, or maybe an old steamer trunk label or printer blocks.
I have been creating since I was a kid. I come from a family of artists. Dad was a mechanical engineer, and is very handy and can make or fix anything. He also has made beautiful jewelry, even my mom’s engagement ring. Mom created everything! Batik, jewelry, oil paintings, sewing, cross-stitch, knitting, gardening, food … oh, the food! We grew up learning how to mend, sew, hammer, build, garden and make jewelry.
I mostly made jewelry and drew and painted until I went to college. I went to Washington State University for a year, where I did quite poorly in regular studies but excelled in art. I transferred to The Art Institute of Seattle, where I studied visual communications in hopes of being able to learn something that I could use to get a job. I thought this was my best path. Thirty-seven years later, I’d say it was the right choice!
I’ve worked all this time as a graphic artist/print production artist, while always doing art and hobbies on the side. I did contract work for many card game companies in the 90s and also had a small jewelry business called Agauricus, a made-up name that signifies people having silver and gold. My goal was to make well-made, beautiful jewelry that people could afford. My jewelry ranged from historically inspired pieces to simple wire work. I used lost-wax casting, cut and soldered pieces and beading.
When I first graduated from college, I opened a little experimental art shop in the Belltown/Denny Regrade area of Seattle. I found an old storefront that was going to be torn down eventually, and the owners just wanted it rented, so I got a deal. I would work full time during the week and make jewelry and artwork in the evenings; and on the weekends, I would open the shop. My sister Susannah had a little shop down the street from me and sold gothic-inspired clothing. I must give her credit for blazing a great path to self-employment for me.
Well, the storefront was a good experiment but was not meant to last. I stayed for less than a year, and then eventually found a house to rent in North Seattle. I was able to expand my jewelry and art studios at this shared house. I had a solarium for painting, an old raw basement for my jewelry equipment, and then my room (which was also my computer room). Here, I would have jewelry open houses where people could come and be social and buy jewelry or just hang out.
Six years later, I bought a little house in Seattle in Greenwood. Originally, I had a room for jewelry and one for painting/computer work. But then I got married and we had to make some changes. So, now I have one room that is my everything room: studio, computer, et al.! And we have built a studio for my husband for his work. We have a lovely little garden, and I have two P-Patches, one in Greenwood and the other in Woodinville, a few miles from my current studio.
Over the years, I went back and forth between renting outside studios and trying to make a workspace that fit into our little house, which is approximately 960 square feet and ultimately too cramped for all the new art mediums I was trying and the tools I had collected.
I had a studio near Alki Beach that was just for my jewelry equipment and served me well during my time making sterling dog and cat name tags. Then there was my very small studio near Gas Works Park, which was within walking distance from my job, so I would walk and create at lunch. The light was amazing and the building was old and very artsy — though a terrible fire hazard.
Eventually, I wanted to try more encaustic work, which would require a heat gun and possibly fire. So, I moved to ActivSpace in Ballard. It allowed me to use mediums that caused fumes, gave me quick access to water, and had a big west-facing window. I installed an extractor fan and started doing more assemblage and encaustics, including my first series. Working in series allowed me to experiment and find my style. I would make a series, find a coffee shop to show in, and then post pieces and sell some on social media.
A few years ago, the pandemic hit and the world got very messy. I needed a quieter place, less city noise and chaos … more tranquility. It was time to make another leap. I found Artspawn Studios and went from 110 square feet to 180 square feet. I had collected so much stuff at my Ballard studio so this extra room was welcome and needed. And in three weekends, I dismantled one studio and created my current studio.
It’s a bit farther from home but gives me so many things I cannot get in Seattle. Every time I enter my studio, I just smile. It’s wonderful to see this big open space with other artists creating … to see all my treasures organized and displayed for me to use … to have dog friends (Yuki, plus Maia, who belongs to another artist in residence) always so happy to see me.
I come out on weekends and days off and chat with my studio mates, enjoy the fresh air and add to my ever-growing collection of inspirational treasures. It is where I make and create to my heart and soul’s content, putting interesting and unique artwork out in the world for others to enjoy.
