The Evolution of the Studio

Starting the studio was a little bit of a crap shoot. I did my homework investigating school hours and meal time customs
The hours for the studio were set according to the school schedule; some kids go to school in the mornings from 7-12, others go in the afternoon from 1-6.
(A need due to overcrowded schools).
So I opened for 3 hours in the morning, and 3 hours in the evening thinking kids would come according to the school schedule. This was perfect in the summer when I first opened but after school started no one showed up for morning sessions. The kids are probably doing the same thing as they would be doing in the USA; SLEEPING!
I adjusted my hours to be open 4 hours in the evening.

The studio began with a “come make art and stay as long as you are engaged” policy. This is my preference.
There are a few that come in, with an idea or not, make their art and leave....within an hour’s time. They get down to business and go.
But I found that most of the the kids are so hungry for creative outlet, many would stay the entire 4 hours I was open.

​I fought and fought and fought to not have distinct session times and specific beginnings and endings.

​Some of the kids could turn into production machines; hopping from one media center to another faster than some kids could wash their hands and sign in.
I put limits on the number of activities they could work on. Painting is one activity, sculpture is one activity. You can do 1 or 2 paintings and that is still 1 activity. Get it?
But what about someone who made a sculpture, then wanted to paint it, then glue decorations on it? Well, that’s 1 activity because it is one piece of art. Get it?

It’s not black and white. What in art (and life) ever is?

The allowed time was shortened to 2 hours as the number of children waiting out side the doors increased.
Then in order to preserve my sanity when I work without a volunteer (usually on Friday nights- more about this in another post) and let more kids into the studio in a manageable way, I started to limit the time to 1.5 hours. While the studio was full and the energy relatively calm with productive artists, the lines grow outside. I have counted up to 12 kids waiting outside, for as long as 45 minutes in the heat and humidity. I feel sad when the 2 girls who have waited patiently for 35 minutes finally get frustrated and leave just 4 minutes before I peek my head out to let them in. I need to refine the waiting process; maybe a sign up area on the chalkboard I painted outside to entertain the kids while they waited? A lottery? I am not sure.

The kids learned to arrive early to ensure they got in the studio. I arrive at 15 minutes early to open at 4 o’clock to see 8 kids waiting at the door. Some kids think they have figured out that it’s a number limit for occupancy. A few do a head count when we are washing hands and signing the register. They haven’t quite realized that it’s a combination of personality styles AND number of kids. All girls 9-14 years old? I can handle 15 of those. All girls plus that one girl? Push it back to 10. All boys? I can probably do 10 at a time. Girls and boys? Definitely no more than 12.

So here we are at just over a year of operation. I returned to the island after a month long break that included work in the States, and attending a meeting in South Carolina.
I decided not to fight the lack of volunteers on Friday nights and Saturdays and changed the open days to Monday through Thursday. The kids moved seamlessly into the new schedule. I asked the kids to tell the others about the change and the news spreads quickly through the neighborhood.
Everybody’s (adults) response was positive; especially acknowledging that “now you can enjoy the weekends”. I find that funny since most of the volunteers are ex-Pats (ex-Patriots-people who live in another country other than their original) and don’t work. I guess after a lifetime of a weekday grind, people still have a TGIF mindset.

The studio is like a living being; constantly growing and changing. The flow ebbs and tides like the sea that surrounds us.