I Think We Both Need More Room
Hey, hello there, friend!
I was looking through old photos this week and found the beginning of my art studio: December 2012, when my neighbor offered me the garage. Drica Lobo Art didn’t even exist yet. I was painting very different things, art was mostly a hobby, and I had no idea how much of my life would eventually fit inside that space.
Then, in 2016, I started showing at Fiesta Hermosa, and I never really stopped painting. Paintings found homes, new ones took their place, and slowly, that garage became the studio where I built my life as an artist. Looking at those early photos now, I wish I could tell that version of myself a few things. Although, honestly, she probably would have immediately asked too many questions ;)
I’m so grateful for that studio. For the freedom to experiment, the convenience of having somewhere to paint, and all the days I could walk in with an idea and stay long enough to see what happened. But something I struggled with for years was having enough space to actually see my paintings. To step back, give each one a little room, and enjoy what I had made before moving things around to work on the next one. Too often, they were stacked together. Loved, absolutely, but with very little personal space.
This week, as I packed everything for the gallery, paintings also kept coming back from different places. The collection was gathering around me, and I’ll be honest: I felt a little discouraged. There was so much work, so much to move, and so little room to take it all in.
Even with so many paintings having found homes over the years, I was looking at what remained and feeling the physical weight of everything I had created.
And then I realized: yes, it’s time to move. I’ve been craving physical space for a long time.
I can love this studio, appreciate everything it made possible, and still be ready for more room. I don’t have every detail of what comes next figured out, but packing helped me recognize a need that had been there long before this move. I want space to create, and I want to give the work enough space to be seen.
Which is why I’m so excited about what happens this week. On Thursday and Friday, we begin installing Love Letters to Hermosa at Resin Gallery. The paintings are packed, I have a team ready to help, and everything feels surprisingly under control. We’ve reached the part where all those ideas require actual muscles. Fortunately, I won’t be doing the lifting alone.
After living with these paintings in my studio, I get to see them come together on gallery walls, thoughtfully placed, with room to breathe. I’m excited to notice things I couldn’t see when they were leaning against one another. They deserve to be seen at their best, and apparently, I’m just as curious as anyone to discover what that looks like.
My mom arrives Thursday morning, too. Having her here to see what grew from that little garage means so much to me. There are things about the life I’ve built here that are difficult to explain over the phone. This weekend, I get to walk her into a room and show her.
And there’s something else I finally get to show you: the poster for my short film, Love Letter to Hermosa Beach, directed with local filmmaker Neil Fernandez, and produced by Webook Productions. You’re getting the first look below, before we share the film at the exhibition.
Between the paintings and the film, I may have finally found enough ways to express how much this place has meant to me. We’ll see. I’m Brazilian; there’s usually more to say.
This Saturday, October 24, from 5 ~ 9 p.m., I hope you’ll join me at Resin Gallery for Love Letters to Hermosa. Bring someone you love, come experience the paintings, the film, and the interactive installations, and help me celebrate the community that has been part of this story.
To give back to the community that has given me so much, I’m donating 10% of art sales from the exhibition to Indivisible Arts. When you bring a painting home, you’ll also be helping support creativity in our community.
I’m ready to see these paintings out in the world, and I’m hoping many will find loving homes with you. After all these years of sharing my studio with them, I can’t wait to stand in that gallery and share them with you.
Color Your Life!
Drica
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