Attempting to Spring Clean my Art Studio
As I glance out of my apartment window during this unexpected spring break, I'm greeted by the first proper blizzard of the year. After weeks of unseasonable 70-degree weather in Minnesota, the sudden change comes as no surprise. In a Minnesota March, one must always expect the unexpected. Trapped indoors amidst my unsightly piles of art supplies, I'm inspired to embark on a bit of spring cleaning. This endeavor unearths a lot of clutter, not just physical, but also negative thoughts cluttering my mind. If you’re looking for some messy relatability, stick around for the ride!
Brutger’s Minnesota Studio, 2024
Lately, my time has been consumed more by pinning inspiration for my dream studio on Pinterest than by actually creating art in my studio. Unlike areas with warehouse-turned-studio complexes, Central Minnesota creatives typically make do with makeshift spaces at home—be it spare bedrooms, basements, garages, or dining tables. My own "studio" occupies just half of my 10x12 foot bedroom. I use the term “studio” generously. Despite producing numerous artworks in this confined space, as time passes, the accumulation of materials seems to shrink it, dampening my creative drive. While snowed in, I took the opportunity to deep clean my studio, hoping to breathe new life into my art and reclaim the functionality of the space. My initial intention was to ruthlessly purge items that no longer served me, akin to Marie Kondo's method, but I ended up merely rearranging and repacking boxes. I seem to have inherited my relatives' trait for creative hoarding, constantly adding to my collection of "I-could-use-this-someday" items. No matter the space I have available, I inevitably fill it up, akin to a goldfish expanding to fit its tank—the larger the tank, the grander the art. My parents are still begrudging sentries to some art piles at my childhood home.
Lily Brutger in her studio, 2024
As I conceded to the fate of my mess and covered my piles with a drop cloth, I simultaneously unearthed and cleared out my limited mindset. Revisiting my old art and materials ignited a spark of inspiration like a kid finding a cherished childhood toy at the bottom of a toy box. Yet, this rediscovery was also tinged with disappointment as I compared my earlier thoughtful and meticulous works to my sporadic and lackluster pieces of late. I feel like my art has atrophied a bit. I blame my fading activity to an alleged incubation period, a shortage of time (due to teaching and graduate school commitments consuming all my time and energy), and the cramped confines of my studio. However, upon reflection, I realized that the hindrance is not in the studio or schedule itself, but rather in my mindset. When I produced the artwork I'm proudest of, I never saw my room as just a bedroom; it was my studio and it looked messy like a studio would. I saw time for making art as a necessity and worth sacrificing other commitments or expectations for. Spring cleaning brought me back to all my curious collections and yummy materials and also a buried mentality that this little niche is great and I have more than enough space and time to make something cool.
Birds Without Borders, 2020, graphite, brushfire charcoal, cante, Embroidery floss on Stonehenge paper. 22X30"
Nonetheless, I'm still contemplating a change of scenery. I view an art studio much like a gym—I have all the necessary tools for a productive session at home, yet the ambiance of a communal space often proves more motivating. A new studio would afford me a bit more space to expand and have a more productive layout, but my top contenders for spaces would still leave me working in solitude. Artists in studio complexes enjoy the added benefit of regular interaction with fellow creatives, akin to athletes at a gym. While Central Minnesota may lack extensive artist studio facilities, it compensates with an abundance of artist gatherings. Just last week, I attended an Everyday People Sketch Night session (model drawing sessions with Heijeu Arts) for the first time in months, perhaps even a year. Sitting at a drawing horse alongside fellow artists, sketching a stunning model and getting my hands covered in charcoal, reignited my sense of artistic identity. It is apparent that I have more cleaning to do inorder to prioritize this important time in the art community–this time spring cleaning is for my schedule.
This year's spring cleaning extends beyond the mere physical tidying of my studio; it encompasses a mental purge of a deficits mindset as well. It's about shedding my shame associated with this incubation period and my messy piles. It's about discarding my excuses and uncovering inspiration. Most importantly, it's about coming out of hibernation and clearing out my schedule to rejoin the community. Overall, thanks to some time leaving I remember how grateful I am for my little niche, my collections, and my community connections.
If you've made it this far, where do you feel most inspired to create? What is your studio situation? What would you add to this reflection? Can you relate? Am I alone in my experience???
Cheers!
-Lily
Lily is a Central MN-based mixed media artist exploring agrarian and rural imagery often as metaphors for value and identity. Lily currently teaches art at the Sartell Middle School. She was previously the Arts Coordinator at Art in Motion on the Lake Wobegon Trail. Lily holds a B.A. in Studio Arts and Art History from University of Minnesota, Morris. Lily also serves on the board of Raising a Farmer Non Profit, as well as Heijeu Arts focusing on arts programming.
@lily.loves.cows13
P.S.
If any part of my experience resonates with you and you're seeking community, you're in luck—you've already found an organization dedicated to providing opportunities for creative camaraderie: Heijeu Arts! You need not label yourself an artist (although I'd bet you are one, and you don’t claim that title for yourself) to do art stuff with Heijeu. Beyond this organization, there are so many places and orgs that support a creative community. From open studios and workshops at the Paramount Center for the Arts and Art in Motion on the Lake Wobegon Trail, to 510 Art Lab, the Avon Hills Folk School, and beyond; the options abound. If you're not local to Central Minnesota, find the cool folks that are making stuff near you.
