When I signed the lease on the new studio, the gritty reality of an affordable artist den began to sink in. There were no stairs to the loft, the communal kettle required a strategically placed pen in order to boil, and my two year old was scared of the dark looming elephant which towered over the space in the form of a four metre mural.
My husband crafted stairs from old attic stairs we found on Gumtree, allowing me to reach the loft above. I came to accept the kettle in all it’s clumsy glory, but the elephant, it had to go.
Set on utilising what the space had to offer, I decided not to paint over the whole elephant (two days into polka-dotting this giant beast, I began to doubt this decision), and instead set out on breathing new life into her.
The black drips were painted white, and nothing but a modified (read friendlier) outline of the elephant was left.
I got dirty, faced my fear of ladders (the top step too!), and danced around the studio like a child.
Many days, hundred of polkadots, and a lot of patience later, my beautiful grand elephant was born.
With stairs that now lead me to my workspace above, I have been able to fill the space with much more than just a happy elephant. I invite you all to come and share this space with me.