From Laundry Pile to Studio: The Brutal Reality of Creative Workspaces

When I started my journey through illustration, one of the things that was priceless to me, was the fact that I could work from anywhere. I was 100% flexible with my time, where I worked, and how I worked. And as much as I still treasure that to this day, three years in, some of it has become challenging, to say the least.

In the beginning, I loved being able to curl up in bed, watch a film, and work under the blanket on a rainy day. Then I started to feel the need to get out more, so I would hop from coffee shop to coffee shop, always hunting for the coziest place. I’d curl up in a good armchair with a croissant early in the mornings, and honestly, I still love that.

But after a while, I started to feel a little bit like a nomad, hopping from place to place. Nothing was truly mine, just a little corner I borrowed for a moment. It was fun and cute at first, but three years in, it’s become a bit impersonal. Sometimes I feel like a businessman living out of a suitcase, moving from one impersonal hotel to another with no real home base. Obviously, in my case, it’s a lot cosier than that, but still I began to miss having my own corner.

The reality was, I couldn’t push the walls of my house wider, and I couldn’t just invent a new room. Trust me, I tried! I even thought about using the kids’ room, they’re in school all day anyway… But I quickly realized that my stuff would get in their way, and it would just feel wrong. That was a no. I considered the attic too, thinking we could board it out and make it nice, but my husband quickly shut that down. He said I’d kill myself on that ladder for sure, especially with how often I run for coffee. So that idea was gone too.

The one solution I DID find which at the time felt like a huge improvement, was to clear some space in the tiny laundry room. That room is basically a cave files with mountain of laundry, but I pushed things to the side and made just enough room for a little desk, a chair, and some shelves. It actually felt like an achievement at first. “See? Get yourself organized, and you can absolutely make a little space for yourself.” And it did work, for about a year.

But slowly, the laundry crept back in and I found myself trapped in a cave of never-ending chaos.

It was fine for admin work on the computer, but when it came to creative work, it was impossible. The space was dark, gloomy, messy, and no matter how hard I tried to keep it organized, it was just ugly. And as a creative person, it simply wasn’t conducive to good work.

So the craving for a space of my own grew stronger.

I wanted a little area where I could have a cosy armchair and a spot cute enough to film videos. I started watching studio tours on YouTube, which only made me more jealous. That feeling of wanting a true home for my art and my work grew like a hungry monster in my stomach.

Eventually, I gave in. My creative business has done good. That means it’s something worth investing in, right? Of course, taking that step felt like a sacrifice, because I always feel guilty, as if I’m taking money away from things like holidays. But in the end, I decided to invest in myself.

Now, I’m not going to lie to you: I’m just hoping (and crossing my fingers) that this solution delivers all the joy and promise I’ve envisioned for it. Reality can sometimes surprise us. But for now, I feel hopeful, grateful, happy and I can’t wait to show you around my little “treehouse,” as I call it.

And if you’re reading this as an illustrator, an author, or any kind of creative trying to make room for your craft, whether you’re working from your bed, your kitchen table, or a laundry cave of your own… you’re not behind. You’re simply in the middle of your journey. Your version of a treehouse will come too.