Inside the Outside
[While I have you here: This project would never, and I mean never, have happened without consultation, labor, encouragement, inspiration, and general support from family, neighbors, friends. It just would not have been possible. Community and our entanglements and digging deeper in our relationships and looking up and around at our physical environment have been top of mind the last few days.]
NOTE: I wrote about this project last December, in July, and in September.
There was a brief moment (a month) last spring where Jim and I gave up on the idea of a studio buildout in favor of trying to buy a different, larger house. After dealing with the bank and seeing houses online that were under contract before we’d even finished reading the listing and losing houses to people offering welp-can’t-compete-with-that amounts of cash, we concluded that we weren’t going anywhere and would, instead, max out what we have on this decently-sized lot: A very small house built in 1922 and an oversized two-car custom-built garage dating back to the 1950s. I can’t remember the exact day in April we made this decision, but after we did, this happened.
Our oldest, Cody, came to visit around Mother’s Day, so we put him to work. You’re not in NYC anymore, kiddo.
Many feelings and concerns and uncertainties came up during this project. Construction is expensive. Materials are expensive. There is an incredible amount of waste and (for me) guilt and stress involved in demolition and building, even when taking care to avoid waste as much as possible, preserve as much of the original structure as possible, etc.
This was also Bob the Very Busy Retired Guy’s first project of this size that wasn’t in his own home, so we were all being very careful and keeping good records and communicating a lot. Good neighbors are a precious resource.
The large window on (in?) the south wall was inspired by a visit to my mom’s house in Oregon, where they had several 4 x 6 windows just letting the light pour in. A window that size was not part of my original plan and felt extravagant, a little too much. Did I even deserve a window that size? Well? Did I?
Hell, yes. It was ordered before I could second-guess myself, as second-guessing myself proving to not be conducive to moving things along. It was one of the smartest structural decisions I made, along with preserving the beams and vaulting the ceiling.
And the gallery wall. Oh my god! Yes! I love showy displays, collages, vision boards, the drama of combinations. In 2020-2021 I started buying art from people (since I wasn’t really going anywhere or spending much money) hoping that I could, like an actual grown-up, someday get some of it framed and maybe even have a place to hang it.
When Jim and I finally started hanging select works a few weeks ago, I think I said I can’t believe this is happening about 100 times… but it was! It was happening almost exactly how I’d planned it. I especially treasure the Dan Grzeca print (“Eclipse Coyote”) and the PJ Harvey mixed media piece by Ben Kator; both were beautifully framed by Denied Art in Chicago.
This was a really intimidating process for me. It wasn’t just about the money I spent, which felt stupid indulgent at times. Reclaiming a poorly-utilized space and making something completely different from what was there to start with (as you can see from the first photo above, it was not a blank slate) meant making a lot of choices I didn’t expect to make, and they often needed to be made quickly in order to keep the project going. Realizing that having design decision responsibility made me uncomfortable because a) I was unaccustomed to it and b) was really scared that I somehow would make the “wrong” choices (aesthetic or otherwise) was very unexpected.
Accountability. It would have been way easier to blame bad decisions and/or the fact I didn’t get what I wanted on someone else. But I sucked it up, I made decisions, and got almost exactly what I wanted. And I love it.
I’m barely scratching the surface of what this outside-inside room means to me. You have no idea. None. I haven’t published yet about what I hope/plan to do in here, what I absolutely will not do in here, what visitors will be asked to not do in here, etc, but I can say with certainty that I’ve already written more in here in the last two weeks than I’d written in the preceding six months.
Something’s happening (in) here. The door is open. Come in. Let’s talk.
thrilling to see the fruits of your labor and commitments to yourself <3
Lisa! It’s gorgeous and so full of inspo and possibility and purpose. Oh, man, you’re making me think about my unused attached garage that blocks me from even being able to see my gardens in the back yard and how I could repurpose it if I’m to stay stuck in this house (for all the same reasons you mentioned). So so so happy for you to have this space for the resistance and the revolution, my friend. @💗