I wanted to have somewhere to paint. a room of my own as it were, somewhere outside or beyond the recycling hallway. Being amongst the bottles and trash was fine and appropriate for a few years, but it came to a point that i wanted to reach out beyond. I looked for months, small child-man in tow, apparently you can pay a mortgage’s worth for a small desk in hackney, not i. I still struggle with the idea of having a studio, a place that is mine, i love it, i am rarely there, i want it to be so much more. i want to lay down astro turf, and fake sunlight, and chaise lounges. But the truth is, its just me and some blank walls and room to paint, to create and imagine, to put down the fantasies in my head and hopefully make them alive. carpet and concrete. tread softly, for you tread on my dreams.