Warning: This is a long, boring post, because it was a long, stressful process, and I mostly wrote this for myself in case I ever forget how much work I put into it. Grab a cuppa tea!
I took my hunt for the right studio space very seriously. And when you are a Real Housewife of Silicon Valley, you have the "luxury" of browsing within limits (size, cost, location) you define yourself.
There were a few things I knew at the beginning, like that I wanted to set up each machine on its own table and have space for my yarn and notions, and then there were a few more things I learned during the process.
San Francisco, where I live, is well-known for their artist communities, so I started looking at places specifically designed for art studios.
First stop: a building catering specifically to small businesses, artists, and random creatives or (I discovered by reading the signs on the doors) therapists needing somewhere to set up shop. I knew about it because this is where I go to get my hair cut, and my stylist mentioned that there were some available spaces. The room I looked at was ok, private, a decent size, and had a sink, which seemed useful. There was a window that looked out onto the courtyard. But the building manager couldn't give me any information about the space - what the square footage was, what the lease terms were, etc. He asked me if I wanted him to get a tape measure so we could confirm the size, I said yes, and then he just stood there. I asked to look at what else was available and he said "they're all pretty much like this". Needless to say, I did not get a good vibe off this guy, and the cost of the space was outrageous. I read reviews online and almost everyone complained of not getting their security deposit back despite following the strict move-out rules. I learned how important it would be to have a good building manager, someone who is personable and can communicate well.
The next space I looked at had both open and private studios in a converted warehouse. Great, I thought. I can see a few different options, sizes, prices, and see what would work best. I can be surrounded by a community of artists who could inspire my work and maybe I could meet a few like-minded people while I'm at it.
I was shocked to learn that an "open studio" (not the kind where you tour various studios to see people's artwork, but the kind where you MAKE the artwork) was exactly that... OPEN. It was 2 walls, about 6' tall, in an "X" shape, and your "studio" was one of the 4 spaces within the "X". It's great for a painter, but with my machines, I needed much more space.
They showed me one of the "soon to be available" "private" studios, with walls that didn't go all the way to the ceiling, poor lighting (one fluorescent light fixture dangling from above that had to be turned on by plugging it into an extension cord...no switch!), some of the previous occupant's stuff strewn about, and no windows. I could already sense that I would not feel safe leaving my machines there. Anyone could easily hop over the wall. I needed somewhere that felt safe, had a door that could lock, and had a lot of natural light.
I also noticed, walking around this studio full of painters, seeing their very amazing work on the walls, that I was feeling pressure. Pressure to make "good art". I knew that I would be unable to get creative if I was constantly feeling pressured, comparing myself to others, and feeling like I had to reach some invisible out of reach goal to be accepted in this community of artists. At first, I thought it would be a positive to be surrounded by other artists, but walking through those halls, it only felt like a negative. Which, actually, for me, makes total sense. I always like the IDEA of community, but really prefer to be rebellious, unique and solitary. (I'm not introverted. You're introverted.)
Before my studio, I spent most of my knitting time at our neighborhood cafe. I enjoyed just being out of the house and doing something productive. I did not enjoy the stress of needing to pee and feeling like I had to choose between giving up my spot or risk having all my stuff stolen (yay city life). I would often lug my laptop to the bathroom, which often meant putting it on the floor then setting it in a puddle on the sink as I washed my hands - yuck and yuck, and then hope that my coffee cup and jacket would still be there when I returned. As it happens, this is also right around the time I was developing symptoms of Hashimotos, which included a need to pee every 20 minutes. I took this into consideration when hunting for my studio. I needed a bathroom nearby.
There are some well-known art studios out in a neighborhood called Hunter's Point, so I started looking around there. I saw an ad on craigslist for a spot that sounded really big and was very inexpensive, I think they described it as a refurbished shipping container. It sounded like it could work! But there was no picture with the ad. I should have known better.
I picked the kids up from school (because it was nearby and I thought they would enjoy sharing in the process with me) and we went together to see the space. We drove up a gravel road and parked amid a scattering of old shipping containers and metal scraps. We carefully ("Guys, don't touch anything that looks sharp!") made our way towards what I guessed was the right location (no addresses or anything), and the guy showed me a corner of a giant, wide-open warehouse primarily used for metal work. This corner, however, was a few towering rows of shelves filled with all kinds of random stuff. No information on who the stuff belonged to or how or when it would be removed to make room for my stuff, should I want the space. But also, it was SO dirty. I could not imagine bringing my yarns and fabrics there. And again, the idea of sharing a space made me nervous.
He showed me another option, the "refurbished" container, which was being used for jewelry making - another dirty endeavor. They had strung up some party lights and maybe there was a sink, that was their idea of refurbished. It also was full of dirt and metal. It was a cool little jewelry workshop, but def would not work for what I needed. I didn't even bother to find out what the bathroom situation there would be. shudder. I needed a clean space where I wouldn't have to worry about my materials being torn or soiled by touching the ground.
There did not appear to be any openings in another area of Hunters Point that has multiple normal buildings with art studios in them. I got on the wait list, but wasn't holding my breath, and the spaces were expensive, besides.
I started to shift my thinking. If art studio spaces weren't feeling good, where else might I set up my studio? Because of my type of art, fiber art, I don't need a sink to rinse my brushes, or a cement floor that paint can spill on and easily be cleaned up. I started to consider normal office spaces in office buildings - nothing art specific.
So I looked at a place that was a shared office, near a dog park, with a bathroom en-suite (score!) and lots of windows overlooking the park. I knew I'd want to bring my dog with me to the studio, so finding a place that would allow pets was important. A place next door to a dog park, even better! Windows, great. The woman who I would share the office with was very nice, and her kids went to the same school as my kids currently attend. So it felt like it _could_ work. There was enough physical space, and a small kitchenette we could share. It was even close enough to home that I could walk there if I wanted to.
The problem was that she was a writer, and I could feel my own anxiety building over the thought of having to work outside of whatever her random office hours might be, or feel like I couldn't do my noisy knitting machine work while she was in the office trying to focus. There was a desk left behind that I could use, and there were some built in shelves in the space, which at first seemed like a bonus because I could easily pile my materials there. But then I realized I wanted the freedom to design my space, pick and choose the furniture and decor. As much as I enjoyed meeting that lady, the space was good, but not perfect. I needed to feel comfortable coming and going as I pleased. And I needed to have control over how the space looked and felt.
Then I checked out a space a few blocks from my kids' school. The location was GREAT. I could just drop them off, park nearby, and walk to the studio. Lots of restaurants and a good coffee shop nearby, the pictures on craigslist made it look big, there was a window, it had potential. I was very excited to go look at it. I discovered there was not much parking within a few blocks of the studio itself, the space, when inside it, had a really low ceiling which made it feel very cave-like, and the window faced an alley, so didn't actually let in much light. I also got a weird vibe from the property manager. The bathroom was upstairs and required a key. Not ideal. I realized, then, that it would be so much better to find somewhere with easy parking.
Oh man, I just remembered another place I looked at, it was a really good size space, biggest square footage I looked at, but it was like in the center of a giant open floor plan where they had constructed some half walls (again, what is it with warehouses and half walls), little natural light, another shared space, like an office within an office, and it was above a SPICE COMPANY. The place *smelled*. Of course, no one working there even noticed the smell, but I could only IMAGINE what people would think if I sent them hats and scarves and blankets that reeeeeeked of spices. Not a good spice smell, either. A very pungent bad-spice smell. Which was too bad, because the amount of space was ideal, and it, too, was across the street from a park.
I toyed with the idea of renting a store front. I could put my stuff in the window, and have my machines in the back and work away while people wandered in and out. Something similar to one of my favorite shops on Valencia, Laku. But it would take a long while to develop any amount of inventory. And my availability to be there was still very unknown.
Then I saw a craigslist ad for an office space in a building that I had often seen from the freeway and thought "I wonder who is in there and how they ended up in that building". The building manager responded quickly to my emails, and we set up a time for me to see what was available. He showed me 3 different offices, one that had 2 small rooms, one of which had a large window that looked out onto the back of a billboard, and two neighboring offices that looked identical, each 9' x 20' of wide open space, about the size of a shipping container, clean floors, clean white walls, well-lit, giant window looking out onto the freeway and towards my neighborhood. I was smitten!
The building manager was very personable and able to answer all of my questions. The bathroom was just a couple doors down from the particular space I preferred. There is a front desk with a security person who will accept packages for you (just like a real business!), mail boxes, a small cafe on the ground floor, large, bright, comfortable looking conference rooms available for any tenant to use, a PARKING LOT with a gate that locks evenings and weekends so you can feel safer being there alone at night.
It was perfect. Not too big, not too small, not too expensive, not too cheap. It's private. Clean. Safe. Has a locking door. The suite number includes two 4s, one of my most auspicious numbers, a sign that I am in the right place. It's close enough to school and home that it is convenient to stop by anytime I have an hour or more to myself. It is in a not-yet-gentrified area which keeps cost low and the diversity of the people working in the building keeps me grounded, makes me feel like I'm doing worthwhile work, like them, and to be thankful that I have this sacred space for my art, for myself. I'm the only artist in the building (that I know of), so I can continue to feel rebellious and take pride in not fitting in.
It is funny, or maybe it makes total sense, that my list of needs that developed for this studio is very similar to my daily emotional needs.
I need space.
I need to feel safe.
I need natural light.
I need a clean place with fresh air.
I need to feel comfortable coming and going as I please.
I need to not feel judged.
I need my dog.
I need to interact with kind people who are good communicators.
I need a bathroom.
I have been there a little over a year now, and I still love it.
-nina
Comments