Mirrors, Water and Reflections 2

When my small studio was built up in the vegetable garden, my husband bought a door. I was imagining a door with much glass, whereas this door just had a decorative strip of cut glass down the middle. Somewhere, a more conventional conservatory-type door existed in the garden, so he held that up to the door space, and then held up this more “door” door, and I could see that it had a better feeling. The design of my octagonal studio was based on a hat box which was on the floor of the room where we eat. Half-way through the build he thought there was not enough room for storage, so he cut into the three back panels half way up, made some cupboards, roofed them. Two ships portholes in the back walls, then two side windows and this door. I sat down in the place when it was finished, hoping it would be a place to work, and within seconds I knew that it was perfect. My son said: “The last place you worked in was hell (an old cow shed) but this is heaven.”

Tony had a catalogue of floor types. We both liked the same one but agreed it was too expensive (he built the studio, with help from a friend, and I paid for the materials, with the proceeds from an illustration job); and then when the floor arrived, he had ordered the one we both agreed was unaffordable. I have never reimbursed him, as we both know. I wanted this piece of floor in the doorway, with “Orient Fruit” printed on it.