Moving out of one art studio and into another is, by definition, unsettling. While full of promise and possibility, the change brings to an end a particular working phase. The previous room, its small size, pale yellow walls, shelves full of books and furniture that crowded every gesture, was the cocoon of work created there. Routine and efficiency, even inefficiencies, produced a certain result that is now past. Things at hand, the distance to the kitchen and mailbox, are all gone with it. It happens to so many artists so often. What impact does it have on the work? Winston Churchill said, “We shape our buildings, thereafter they shape us.” After applying much ceiling-wall-floor paint, packing, hauling, and climbing up and down stairs, the new room is taking shape. It is square. It is spacious. It has a quiet stability. It is pristine whitewash, like a bride’s dress, a sheet of paper or large canvas, with the possibility of being anything, only depending on how it is put to use. It is a clean slate that inspires the idea that maybe I will be a new artist in it.