An ongoing description of my two years living in an art studio warehouse 2001-2003

But the events with public attendance were rare. Usually Citywide Studios was only populated by the artists who lived or worked there. The rough neighborhood and the resulting security measures prevented causal visits. It was a place that required effort to get into.

The building occupied the corner of Pierce and 15th Avenue. The parking lot was entered from the Pierce street side. Getting into the lot meant pulling up to a massive barred gate, kept locked at all times. Opening the gate was a strictly manual process-it meant getting out of your vehicle, using keys to open the lock, pushing the gate along its track of rollers, getting back into the car and pulling into the lot, and then hurrying back to roll the gate closed, and locking it.

The parking spaces were literally at our doorsteps. I’d get out of my van 3 steps from my door.

An ongoing description of my two years living in an art studio warehouse 2001-2003

The 2/3 of the room I made my working studio filled many additional functions. On of the primary uses was display space.

For many of the months I lived there, I signed up to be part of the First Friday gallery tour. Buses would come and deliver patrons to tour my studio.

For these events I would clear as much as possible out of the front space ahead of time.  I’d mop the cement floor with Spic and Span, and 409 the heck out of the bathroom.

I hung a new exhibit of work every month, originally my own, but in time I expanded to include guest artists as well.

In addition to First Fridays, every spring a weekend arts festival was held called Art Detour. Then I would be open all day Saturday and Sunday as well.

An ongoing description of my two years living in an art studio warehouse 2001-2003
The barred security door to my unit, and my own heavy exterior door, were orange-the color of ambition. And I was ambitious. Where others would see a rudimentary living space plunked down in the ghetto, I saw the  fulfillment of a dream to dedicate my whole lifestyle to painting and art.

The scary local populace, primitive facilities and seasonal discomforts meant nothing compared to the excitement of have 2/3 of my home as studio space.
In the final 1/3 of the room is where I crammed all my non-art possessions, discretely separated from the studio by a partition assembled from bookshelves and cabinets.

In time in my back room I obtained a loft bed and installed my computer table beneath it. I had a double burner hot plate to cook on. I had a coffee pot and an electric kettle for endless cups of tea. I even ended up getting a 5′ refrigerator/freezer, which enabled more home cooking.

I had a TV on a rolling rack, a VCR, and one big chair for lounging purposes. The stereo was out in the studio. The uncomfortable futon I had arrived with devolved from serving as the bed to a couch, then to an outside couch, then to the dumpster.

to be continued

An ongoing description of my two years living in an art studio warehouse 2001-2003

My unit of the building was one big open room, probably about 15′ x 35′, if I remember correctly. Some day I’ll have to confirm that.

Cement floor. 20′ high ceilings with immense exposed wooden rafters. A little half bath was walled off  in one corner, and an industrial sink installed in the main room. A swamp cooler provided the only climate control. No heat, and no air conditioning in the Arizona summer. Very challenging.

The shower was in the unit next door. To get there I had to walk outside through the parking lot and use keys to open a barred gate and heavy exterior door. That shower was well secured.

Inside the shower room it was well tiled, with lots of colors and whimsical chunks of broken ceramic sculptures incorporated into the walls. The whole building in fact was painted in bright colors. It reflected the style of the landlady.

to be continued