In August, my family and I once again found ourselves on the move. The opportunities that led us out west in the first place presented themselves in new and exciting ways in the Albertan capital city of Edmonton. We had thought of the home we had found outside Red Deer as a place where we put down roots and invested our time and talents into both the house and the town. This made the move bitter-sweet for us, but amazing doors opened for the whole family in the city, and we gratefully followed where we were led.
While we knew some of the exciting family things that drew up further north, finding studio space in Edmonton immediately proved to be something of a challenge. When I started asking around for space, I could only find two artist centres in the city. Things got worse as I asked more questions. It turns out the first was only for rent as temporary space for projects, and the second was currently full. Thankfully, in talking with one of the local curators, he suggested that I contact the Artstream Project in the north of the city. It was here that I found a new space for the studio.
While I immediately liked the building and the other artists renting in it, the available space itself turned out to be quite a bit smaller than I’m used to. My worry only grew as my children and I pilled the studio’s furniture and moved boxes into the space. In the end, the only room left was enough to swing to door open but not to enter. To make matters worse, given that the space was on the second story of the building that was accessible only by a narrow staircase, even if there had been room in the space I was renting (which there wasn’t), I suddenly found myself with no place to put either the beautiful lumber or all the colourful rocks and soils that were brought for the studio’s use. While I’m grateful that both these issues were met by friends of ours, allowing me to store them in their farm field out in Stoney Plain, no permanent storage solution has presented itself as of yet and a lifetime supply of quartersawn basswood, figured swamp oak, and vertical grain Douglas fir remains tarped against the elements.
Be that as it may, even at that point, there wasn’t time to worry about the studio much as once the tables and equipment were safely in the Artstream building, all my attention had to turn to the rest of the move and our new house. There turned out to be some unexpected hurdles with our new home, and about a month came and went, and it was the middle of August before I could finally start thinking about the new studio space again. When I did, the space fairly quickly took form (thanks in large part to the help of my oldest daughter and youngest son.) The previous tenant had painted graffiti over the walls (complete with a ninja turtle), but with some primer and paint, we quickly quieted the space down, and once a place was found for the larger objects, a serviceable studio space took form.
It’s now been a little over a month since I first started working in the new studio space. I really enjoy its location, the drive to which gives me both a morning and evening conversation with my daughter on her way to school. The other artists here are very friendly and doing interesting work of their own in paint and fabric arts. And, while the area itself is a little rough, it is a place where people of all kinds of backgrounds work together, and I feel quite at home in that.
Now, as October begins, I find myself working day by day on a liturgical painting of the Nativity feast and wondering about the future. It is my hope that my iconographic work can continue in 2025 and that this space will be used to continue to studio’s work of creating beautiful works.