Building Art Shed Studio

For over a decade, my studio has been a spare bedroom. Small. Reliable. Constant. It’s where I pushed through early doubt, figured out my voice, built bodies of work, packed and shipped paintings, and stared at walls wondering what comes next. Lately, what’s next has been getting bigger.

My scale of the work is growing. The ambition is growing. The physical limitations of the room have become impossible to ignore. And mentally, I think I’ve outgrown it too.

So after going back and forth on renting a space or building one, I decided to convert the shed in my backyard into my next studio.

If I’m serious about the longevity of my career, I need to think long-term. Renting would be convenient, but it would also mean money out the door every month. Converting the shed means investing in something that’s mine. A space that grows with me. A space I can design around the way I actually work.

Of course, the shed has already tested me.

A raccoon tore through part of the roof one night. That felt symbolic. Like the universe saying, “You sure about this?” There’ve been other small surprises too—old wood that needs replacing, and other things that add time and cost.

This month is about gutting it out. Replacing the roof. Reinforcing what needs to be reinforced. Starting with structure before aesthetics. I don’t want a pretty studio. I want a durable one.

The space isn’t just about square footage. It’s about mindset. It’s about committing to the next 5 plus years of work. It’s about giving the paintings and myself, room to breathe.

I’ll be documenting the entire process, including the mistakes as it unfolds. That’s something I’ll be sharing exclusively with email subscribers. If you’re reading this, you’re already part of that inner circle. If you have gotten to this page some other way, make sure to sign up for my studio notes here.

Now it’s time to pick up a hammer.

rough sketch of new layout for my studio in my backyard shed

Large Painting Wall
One uninterrupted wall dedicated to big canvases. This is priority. No shelves. No clutter. Just vertical space to go bigger.

Workbench/Drafting Table
A small area where I draw, sketchbook, smaller studies, cut, miter, solder, staple, and create some sawdust if needed. If not, at least a dedicated cleaning station.

Supply Storage
Closed shelving if possible. Keep visual noise down. I want the space to feel focused, not chaotic.

Maybe a fridge and a couch
Gotta have snacks and a chill corner!

Chicago Weather
One of the biggest realities of moving into a backyard shed is the weather. Chicago winters aren’t forgiving, and summer heat can ruin materials just as fast. Paint can separate, canvases can warp, wood can shift. If this space is going to support the longevity of my career, it has to be stable. That means proper insulation, sealing everything tight, and installing a mini split system so I can control temperature year-round. It’s not the sexy part of building a studio, but it’s essential.

Security
I’m also looking into installing a few security cameras, not because I’m paranoid, but because peace of mind matters. When you’re storing years of work and materials in one place, you protect it. This isn’t just a shed anymore. It’s going to be the engine room.


I knew the first real step was gutting the shed, and checking all of its structural bones. It’s one thing to imagine a clean studio. It’s another to deal with everything that’s been sitting inside of it for years.

Dirty cluttered shed from the door view
Cluttered dirty shed from the inside

You’re not sure what you’re going to find behind the junk, and part of you doesn’t want to know. But you have to start somewhere and you take the first piece out, then another, and another, then it speeds up and suddenly the space starts to open.

Cleared shed with only broken drawers on the floor and all the lights on
minor water damage to the exterior bottom of the wall

To my surprise this little shed has held up really well. No real water damage and structurally pretty sound other than the roof that had clearly been compromised—thanks to a raccoon that made its way in that one night. But no other real surprises, yet.

There’s a point where it stops feeling like a project and starts feeling like a commitment. You realize you’re not just cleaning something up—you’re rebuilding it from the inside out.

AI generated image of what the shed could potentially look like as a fully functional art studio

Just for the fun of it, now that the shed is fully gutted, I took a photo and asked AI to generate what the finished studio might look like based on my floor plan. It got plenty of things wrong, but it gave me a push to keep going! It’ll be interesting to come back to this later and compare the two—what it imagined versus what actually gets built. We’ll see who did it better.

Next up is rebuilding—starting with the roof, sealing everything up, and making the space weatherproof. This is where it starts to shift from demolition to construction.