Today New York City-based artist Jodi Melnick shares about her studio practice. Click here to read Jodi's full artist profile on the blog from 2015.

Photo: Maggie Picard

Studio time/practice has been an every (almost) day occurrence since college. I was fortunate to go to school with a group of artists, and had teachers, that instilled this notion that spending time alone, with others, exploring, dissecting, experimenting, finding the newness and re-doing the sameness, would be a vital part of my creative practice.

It is indeed a luxury, always in this dance economy, to have space available to oneself, and for that I am eternally grateful for the spaces I have found that I can afford or have taught in, or have resided in as a result of a fellowship. When space has not been at my disposal, the floor where I live, or a long wide hallway where I used to live, or my mother’s patio in the hot sun – for real, has served as my space.

It’s the aloneness in any space, the entering, lying on the floor, waiting for my body, my desire, my thoughts, images, plans, to all sync so I can generate a physical expression that propels a thought to the next thought, or a knot to untie, it is perplexing and clarifying. It is my vehicle to speak. Starting is overwhelming, as exciting as it is harsh and terrifying, and it always starts with not knowing. I put myself through the same thing that I put myself through the day before, but I do this because my practice is my life, a place/space that allows me to understand how I best relate to the world and the people I engage with.

This past December, I got hit by a taxi in NYC. I’m healing from broken bones, incorporating plates and screws, bones with screaming nerves. My daily practice has been dealing with depression, sadness, and physical therapy. Healing for me means getting back into the studio, something I am just starting to do now. I miss it. I wish I did not miss or need it so much.

 

Click here to read how six more artists think about their studio practice/studio time.

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