after 30 years, i decided to start making art again. i’d walked away when i was 35. too many strange gallery meetings. too many curator dinners. too many collectors. no car. no house. no health plan. but having retired from a solid career in the advertising and marketing world, i found i could go back without all the rest of it. no pressure to make a living and pay bills. no pressure to make a reputation.
and so with a lot of doubt, uncertainty as to whether or not i even cared, i started. and it grabbed me by the throat. i quickly outgrew the basement, i started thinking about another studio. i’d had such a great space on portland street in boston. from 1980 to 1985. it was big and light filled. convenient in a quietly undiscovered commercial building not far from boston garden and north station. it was where i first made big work. where the curators from the i.c.a. came to select me for my first really important group show. where my gallery owner signed me. where collectors came to marvel at the freight elevator and stare at the sprinkler system. where the curator of the boston museum of fine arts brought clement greenberg to meet me and where he decided to acquire one of my paintings for the museum’s permanent collection.
so i thought about that. and i looked into space in winston-salem, but quickly decided that first of all, i didn’t want to lease a space, build it to suit only to have to surrender it a few years later or at least be prey to changing rents and development.
i had the land. i decided to build my own little dream studio off the back of the house. i did a lot of research and, at one point, actually found a studio that i really liked about a block away from my friend susie’s house in sag harbor.
i found a couple of young, hungry architects at stitch in winston-salem. we designed it and it got built.