Last week, I moved from our house on the countryside into a small town apartment on my own.
Just writing that feels weird. I have very conflicting emotions about this move. A sense of disorientation. Melancholy. But also excitement. I haven't lived on my own in an apartment since 2014. Have almost forgotten what it feels like to be on my own. To do everything by myself. To dance like no one's looking. To tend to my own little space. To sing softly to myself. To relax fully into the solitude that I've always craved, but that now feels like a long lost friend.
Last time I lived in a small apartment, I wasn't an artist. Or had a YouTube channel. So the main challenge with this apartment right now is turning it into a viable workspace. The room I had back in the house was already pretty cramped, and I couldn't bring most of my studio stuff here, only the bare essentials.
And the traffic noise outside... Let's just say my videos (and possible upcoming podcast episodes) won't be as quiet as before.
But I'll make do. This past week has been a lesson in radical simplification. And I've always loved simplifying things. I have my little studio space set up by the window:
My first few, freshly painted watercolors are hanging to dry on the wall. Funny how this has been the thing that really made this feel like home. My birds are on the wall. Some of them fresh off the worktable, like these:
Some of them are old favorites, like these blue tits:
And the fieldfare I painted back in 2020, in a rare show of looseness:
These acrylic paintings by my mom, of some kind of gull(?) and its egg:
She painted these in 2003 and they've been with me for many years now. Seeing them on my wall is comforting.
And of course, my favorite little crow:
Surrounding myself with art feels like a luxury I've taken for granted. Maybe because I’ve grown up in a family of art loving creatives, and especially nowadays when I also make art myself. Art has just always been there, in the background, as decoration. But it's so much more than that. My art collection feels like pieces of my soul. They’re inspiration, comfort, company.
The main driving force behind my art practice has always been to paint for myself. To make the kinds of paintings that I want on my walls. And that drive feels almost like a survival mechanism right now, as I'm trying to make this place feel like mine. My birds are looking reassuringly at me from the walls. I'm alone, but not lonely.
Do you have any art pieces like this, that instantly make you feel at home?
With love,
Louise
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Hi, I'm Louise - a watercolor wildlife artist, YouTuber and creative coach. I paint - mostly birds. I create courses for beginner artists. And I support creative solopreneurs with my digital products and coaching.
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As a person who left her country with a couple of suitcases, I definitely took some art keepsakes with me. I have a few little pieces by my friends on my wall. I look at those and rememeber they love me and I love them even if we are divided by kilometers. I really want to hang more of my own art pieces on the walls. For long while it felt kinda shameless, but now I think it is actually pretty cool. How will I showcase my art to others if I don't dare to showcase them to myself, right?
Sending you support, Louise!