I receive Robert Genn's newsletter every week. Each post is inspiring in some way, but there are a few that deeply resonate with me. The post in a recent email was one of those. I would like to share a portion of it and encourage you to stop by Robert's site and check out some of his other writing. He is a painter, specifically, but his words resonate with artists across the board.
My print table and my sewing table are my main "easels". So, dear reader, I ask you: what is your "easel"? Where does your creative alchemy occur?
Here is a portion of Robert's e-newsletter:
The American architect and author Anthony Lawlor looks at rooms as containers for the elevation of the human spirit. The kitchen, for example, is a sacred place where raw foods are transformed by the alchemy of heat into sustenance and delicacy. Bedrooms are sanctuaries for the mysterious transformations of sleeping and loving. Bathrooms are closed retreats of personal cleanliness and hygiene.
Apart from perhaps the nursery, nothing compares
to the remarkable container known as the studio.
Here is a sanctuary where mere materials are
transformed into objects of beauty. Like the
laboratory, the studio is a domain of imaginative
At the center of most studios is a piece of furniture
called the easel. Whether simple and humble or
complex and magnificent, it is at this unit that the
creator sets her forces in motion.
You might pause to consider how blessed are we
who daily stand or sit before the easel. Ideally,
it should be a strong object, so it can be pushed
hard against, or be made to hold rock-steady during
our more delicate passages. The easel needs to be
well lit from above so those born on it can be
properly examined, pampered, and reconsidered.
The easel is an altar to productivity. Traditional
altars have been places of worship and sacrifice,
and the studio easel is no exception. He who would
do well at one must respect and honour the gods
of quality, truth, composition, imagination, pattern,
perspective, story, drawing, colour, fantasy and flair.
To stand or sit at one, even in play, you need to
prepare yourself for labour.
The easel is also a place of sacrifice. Substandard
passages or whole works are summarily struck down
at this often troubling altar--but rebirth is its usual
fruit. Both honour and responsibility go with your