beginnings of a new studio

For as long as I can remember I’ve dreamed of living in the middle of nowhere, with an animal or two, surrounded by green. When my parents bought the property that would house the new studio in late 2020, I knew my dream had magically come true. Since this was during the first year of coronavirus, when I had deferred uni with the intention to finish the degree in a covid-free 2021 (that went well), I realised I had quite a wait before I could live out said dream. With that in mind, I immediately made the decision that I wouldn’t allow myself to go down and visit ‘the farm’ until the day I could move in.

For 16 months I nodded and smiled through all the delightful tales and photos from my family and their friends who had gone down, singing praises of how beautiful it was, followed by the shocked “oh, you still haven’t been down?!” Many people - including my mother - would often ask how I could be sure I would like it down there if I’d never been, but I was resolute. Stubbornness isn’t always a flaw.

It wasn’t easy, but I bloody did it. On February 21, 2022, the day after the Grad Show finished at NAS, I was gone.

Squig at the very swollen creek after first few days of heavy rain in late Feb

When I reached Wyndham I managed to miss our road as I was too busy looking at the vista of rolling green hills. After a u-turn and a long and slow drive along the dirt road, I finally saw it through a break in the trees.

Of course I beelined for the future studio and was immediately overtaken by the delightful aroma of possum piss soaked shelves in the storeroom. She needed a serious wipe down and spider web elimination, not to mention the burning of quite a lot of incense. However it was also bigger than I expected, light, and a blank slate. I loved it.

I wandered around to the creek, back garden and my tiny mud brick home before finally sitting back on the couch in the main house and letting myself properly relax for the first time in who knows how long.

The studio when I first arrived

In the first few days I started cleaning up the studio in an attempt to get her presentable, while also figuring out all the work that needed to be done in order to fill out my very first grant application. The task of filling out the application was confusing and scary as hell, as it made me realise how much money I would need to save if I was unsuccessful - a very likely outcome.

Dad helped me patch up the small jobs we could manage in the studio without a shopping trip. It turns out there’s quite a bit you can do with Selleys sealant and a few pieces of plywood. We removed and replaced the disgusting storeroom roof - courtesy of the possum and a shit solar panel install job - and filled the gaps that made it so easy for the spiders, possum and water to get in in the first place.

Cute but smelly former studio tenant

Once everything was relatively presentable, I hauled in the secondhand plan drawers that had been lying outside under a tarp and put them in their rightful place. While the place didn’t look that different from when I first got there, it still felt like a big achievement - the first big addition to the studio. Gotta start somewhere.

Resident roos

I was unable to visit the surrounding area as much as I’d hoped as the continuous rainfall meant being stuck on the property due to the causeway on the road out becoming flooded and impassable. We only achieved a few short trips to town when the water temporarily dropped, and used that time to bulk-buy groceries and get flat whites. It was all-in-all quite boring. Mostly I just sat out on the deck petting Squig with a cup of tea, looking at the rain, and periodically yelling at her to shut up whenever she barked at the kangaroos.

Of course I couldn’t complain, as Northern NSW and South QLD were at the same time going through horrific flooding, and only 2 years ago the gum trees 200m behind us were on fire during the record bushfire season. It still chills me seeing the charred trees on the hills in the distance and up close everywhere I go in this part of the country.

Early morning view along our road

Unfortunately Squig’s instinctual Kelpie/Maremma genes became harder and harder to handle, and after some time struggling to keep her in check, she finally got a bite out of a kangaroo a few days after she’d eaten a brood of ducklings. We knew we had to give her up for the sake of the native wildlife and her quality of life. It’s been a month and I still miss our afternoon walks and her cheekiness.

After all the rain I decided reclaim the front of the house that was completely overrun with weeds and rampant tomatoes, and spent the remains (and more) of my last paycheck on a bunch of native plants. It was bloody hard work, but I was surprised to discover a love of weeding and gardening in general. I like watering them every day, seeing how they’ve grown, and checking for any little weed sprouts or red bugs I need to eradicate. I had my first bee sighting on my Crowea a few days ago and it just about made my day.

I’ve now ended up also filling up all spots behind the house with new natives. I’m certain it’s only a matter of time before I decide to do the same in the space in front of the studio, I just hope for the sake of my savings account that I can restrain myself for a while longer.

My beautiful new natives

In the meantime, I’ve found myself a couple of jobs that will allow me to start saving for the things I need to begin proper work on the studio. There’s not much else I can do for now without some dough except giving the storeroom a fresh coat of paint. Hopefully some grant funding will come through while I wait for it to dry.

In my short time here I’ve already discovered several collectives, galleries and people that are doing work I admire. I can’t wait to discover more and for the studio to one day join their ranks in contributing to the arts in this amazing area.

I’m very much aware of the fact that this studio business will not happen overnight and shall be very hard work, but I’m reassured by the fact that I know it will happen - whether it takes me one or several years doesn’t bother me in the slightest.