Lames.

I don't have an amazing studio, but in this new apartment of mine I managed to carve out a nice little spot in front of a window that looks out on S. 13th street and a nice tree across the street. I have space to hang work I like, space for storing supplies and paper, and desks dedicated to both drawing and digital work. Look, I can show you part of it!


Nice, right? It's no New York 20ft tall ceiling, frosted glass walls, robot servant filled studio, but I like it a lot. Then the drips start. It's puzzling at first- Water? What is this water? Looking up, I notice a very sorry looking and severe sagging coming from my suddenly damp and overweight ceiling tiles. I shove everything off the desk, lay down a lot of plastic and cover the many open outlets, like a small town piles sandbags to ward off the rising water. The inevitable happens and bam! the tiles fall and crumble to poisonous bits. Now, I have a view of pipes and forgotten wallpaper covered by dry wall. It only takes new tiles to fix but still, pretty lame.