The studio satisfies the residue of attention.
It is a room with a view, one that faces up to the resistance, and compels us to push on with god-willing persistence.
But the studio can be anywhere. It is mobile, a canvass in hand, the imagination at play, anything that cultivates attention for periods at a time.
Deep work requires periods of focus and habitual disconnection.
We develop ideas by doing something — taking deliberate breaks — to discover new ideas by doing nothing.
Discovery begs to be lived out, beyond the studio and into the open space.