I wanted a treehouse, but this will have to do.

Most people have a garage, I have an art studio.

Yes the cars get rained on and crapped on by countless roaming animals, but it's the risk I'm willing to take.

Probably because neither of those cars belong to me, but whatever.

My mother is an artist, I pretend to be.

And this is the place that has allowed me to create the illusion that I could be taken seriously as a young artist.

All joking aside, I do take my work very seriously.

And this studio has truly allowed me to do so.

I have spent countless hours drawing, painting  and making ridiculous sculptures that are not worth being shared with anyone.

I am fully aware that the bulk of my work is, needless to say, in need of improvement.

There is always room for improvement, especially in my case.

But I look forward to the rest of my life; working toward the unrealistic and bottomless dream that is, the life of a starving artist. 

People talk about their safe havens? Yeah, well welcome to mine.