A Day in the Life of My Studio Assistants

People often ask what my studio is like.

They usually imagine a quiet room, soft music, neatly organized pencils, and peaceful hours spent drawing.

And while there are definitely pencils involved...

The rest is a little less accurate.

You see, my studio assistants have four legs.

They don't sharpen pencils.

They don't answer emails.

They don't help with backgrounds.

But they are extremely committed to supervising every drawing session.

Their primary responsibilities include:

🐾 Following me into the studio.

🐾 Testing every dog bed in the room.

🐾 Requesting snacks at highly strategic times.

🐾 Staring at me while I work.

🐾 Making sure I never spend too much time without taking a cuddle break.

Of course, being a studio assistant isn't all naps and cuddles.

There is also the important matter of patio door management.

A typical afternoon might look something like this:

One dog wants out.

Five minutes later, that same dog wants back in.

Ten minutes after that, they would like to go back outside again.

Naturally, once the first dog decides to go out, the others begin reconsidering their own decisions.

As a result, there is a steady stream of traffic through the patio door that would rival a busy airport terminal.

Then there's Gracie.

Gracie approaches outdoor time with enthusiasm and absolutely no concern for cleanliness.

No matter the weather, she somehow manages to locate the only patch of dirt, mud, or questionable substance available and immediately decides it would make an excellent place to roll around.

Every. Single. Time.

She'll come bouncing back inside looking incredibly pleased with herself while leaving me wondering how one very little dog can find so much dirt in such a short amount of time.

Meanwhile, Coco watches the entire situation unfold from the comfort of her bed.

She'll lift her head, give Gracie a look that can only be described as pure judgment, and then quietly lay her head back down as if she's decided she's not getting involved in whatever poor life choices were just made.

Honestly, the side-eye alone deserves its own portrait.

Then there is Annabelle, has decided that personal space is optional. She wants up. And this is not just lay on my lap she likes to be held like a baby perched on my shoulder.

If I'm drawing, there's a good chance she'll be perched on my shoulder, keeping a close eye on my progress while pretending she's helping.

The evidence is right there in the photos.

If you look closely behind her, you'll also spot several works in progress quietly waiting for their turn. They seem convinced that if they stare at me long enough, I'll finish them faster.

So far, their strategy appears to be working.

Then there was Jack.

For years, Jack believed his most important studio duty was warming my lap while I worked.

And honestly, he was exceptionally good at it.

Many drawings were completed with a sleeping dog stretched across my lap, occasionally sighing dramatically if I shifted position and interrupted his nap schedule.

The studio feels a little different without him now. In full honesty very different, its hard sometimes not to have his heavy solid weight leaning on me.

I still find myself glancing down sometimes, expecting to see him there.

But the memories remain tied to so many drawings, and I'm grateful for every one of them.

Of course, the current team continues to take their responsibilities very seriously.

There is regular patrol of the studio floor.

Quality control inspections of dropped pencil shavings.

Frequent requests for attention.

And ongoing debates about who gets the best sleeping spot.

It's not exactly the most efficient workplace.

But I wouldn't have it any other way.

Because when I think about the drawings I've created over the years, I don't just remember the artwork.

I remember the dogs sleeping beside me.

The conversations with family members who wandered in to chat.

The interruptions, the laughter, and the everyday moments that filled the room while the drawings slowly came to life.

My studio has never been quiet.

It's always been full of life.

And honestly, I think that's exactly how it should be. 🐾