In 2025, I made a big change and built a garden art studio at the bottom of my garden.
Earlier that year, I’d moved into a rented studio space in Peterborough — my first proper setup outside the house. It felt like a real step forward. Having somewhere dedicated to the work gave me structure, focus, and a sense that things were becoming more serious.
But as the year unfolded — and as a house renovation began alongside everything else — it became clear that the setup wasn’t quite right long-term.
I needed something closer. Something more flexible. Something that worked around the way I actually create.
When Things Change, So Does the Setup
In June 2025, I got the keys to a new house — one that needed a full renovation. Not a quick refresh, but a proper rebuild. The kind where every job leads to three more, and nothing takes as long as you think it will.
Somewhere in the middle of that process, the idea of building a studio at the bottom of the garden stopped feeling like a luxury and started to feel like a solution.
And looking back now, it’s one of the best decisions I’ve made.
From Rented Space to Something Permanent
I want to be clear — I’m genuinely grateful for the studio in Peterborough.
It played a huge role in my development. It helped me take the work more seriously and build consistency. It forced me into a routine, even on the days when motivation wasn’t there.
But long-term, it wasn’t quite right.
Building something at home felt like the next step — not just practically, but mentally as well.
A few things made that decision feel obvious, and together they explained why building a studio at home made more sense than continuing with the rented space.
1. Removing the Commute
Commuting doesn’t seem like a big issue until it becomes part of your daily rhythm.
It’s not just the time — it’s the decision-making around it. Whether it’s worth going in for a short session. Whether you’ve got enough time to make it count. Whether you’ve got the energy for the journey there and back.
All of that adds friction.
Now, the studio is a short walk down the garden. No planning. No travel. No barrier between the idea and the act of starting.
2. Access Whenever I Need It
This is probably the biggest shift.
Creativity doesn’t run to a fixed schedule. Sometimes the work flows first thing in the morning. Sometimes it appears late in the evening. Sometimes it arrives unexpectedly in the middle of the day.
Having the studio at home means I can respond to that.
If I’ve got 45 minutes, I can use it. If I want to step in just to look at something and think, I can do that too. There’s no need to justify the time — it’s simply there.
That flexibility changes everything.
3. From Rent to Ownership
Renting a studio works — and for many artists, it’s the only option.
But it comes with a constant pressure. A monthly cost that doesn’t pause, regardless of how productive things have been.
Building a studio at home comes with its own effort and investment, but the difference is in how it feels.
This space is mine.
It’s not temporary. It’s not something I could lose. It’s part of something I’m building long-term, and that shift in mindset has a real impact on how I approach the work.
4. The Reality of Winter
This one is simple.
The Peterborough studio was cold. Properly cold.
High ceilings, no insulation — and when winter arrived, it changed how I worked. Sessions became shorter. Focus dropped. Some days, I avoided going in altogether.
Environment matters more than we sometimes admit.
The new studio is designed to be used all year round. Warm when it needs to be, comfortable enough to stay in, and built around how I actually work day to day.
What This Really Changes
This move isn’t just about convenience.
It’s about removing friction.
As artists, we often talk about motivation — but motivation isn’t reliable. It comes and goes. What matters more is creating an environment where showing up becomes easier, regardless of how you feel on a given day.
That’s what this space does.
It gives me more time to paint. More space to think. More freedom to push work further, rather than stopping because of external constraints.
And on a deeper level, it feels like a commitment.
Not just to the work — but to building a life around it.
Same Work, Different Space
The studio has changed, but the work hasn’t.
I’m still exploring the same ideas — modern life, inner pressure, identity, and what it feels like to navigate a world that rarely switches off.
The difference now is the environment those ideas sit within.
The space is ready. The work just needs to meet it.
A New Chapter
I’m glad I had the Peterborough studio. It was an important step.
But this feels like something else.
Something more stable. More considered. More aligned with where I’m heading.
After a year of change, disruption, and renovation chaos, it’s good to have something solid at the bottom of the garden — a space that exists for one reason only:
To make work.
A Small Introduction
If you’re new here, I’m Paul Kneen — a contemporary abstract portrait artist.
You can read more about me, or explore my original abstract portrait paintings and limited edition prints.
