Confessions of a Chronically Messy Studio
Some artists have pristine, sunlit studios with everything in its perfect place—a gentle, minimalist haven that smells faintly of lavender and success.
Mine smells like linseed oil, coffee, and mild panic.
Welcome to my chronically messy studio.
My Messy Studio
The Myth of the Tidy Artist
If you’ve ever seen Instagram photos of an artist’s studio looking clean and airy, let me tell you a secret: they cleaned it for the photo. And by “cleaned,” I mean they shoved all the chaos into one corner and cropped it out.
A real working studio is like a creative crime scene. Evidence of inspiration everywhere: smears of paint on the walls, glitter in suspicious places, and brushes that look like they’ve been through a war.
NOT My studio
My Studio Rules (That I Absolutely Never Follow)
Put brushes back where they belong. (Or jam them in a jar with 37 others and hope for the best.)
Wipe down palettes after each session. (Or let yesterday’s colors become part of today’s “new palette inspiration.”)
Label supplies neatly. (Or just yell, “WHERE IS MY WHITE PAINT?” until it answers.)
Most of My Brushes, but not all…. Yeah Im a brush hoarder
The Creative Chaos Theory
Here’s the thing: I do know where everything is… sort of. That pile of scrap paper? Reference sketches. The mysterious jar of cloudy liquid? Brush rinse water… hopefully.
A clean space might be calming, but my mess is alive. It’s constantly shifting, evolving—like a lava lamp, but with more chance of stepping on a push pin.
More of the Chaos….
Why I’ll Never Be Truly Tidy
Sure, I could scrub it down, line up my paint tubes in rainbow order, and create a studio worthy of a Pinterest board. But here’s the truth:
Mess means movement.
Mess means something is happening.
Mess means a project is alive.
Every splatter and pile tells a story, and when I walk into that chaos, I know exactly who I am—a working artist, in the middle of making something real.
Final Confession: If my studio is ever spotless, it’s probably because I’m avoiding starting a new painting… or I’m expecting company.
