If he'd had the money for it, Peter's studio would have been someplace where he could work in solitude. But since he did not, he shared an area with ten other artists.
They had all done their best to divide the huge hall into little sections where each of them could work. If it was smaller projects he often took them home, and worked on them in his room. But the current piece that he was working on was too large for that. So Peter was in his studio, headphones on as he used a chainsaw to cut at the wood before him. Trying to get it into the shape he wanted.
Peter had no idea how long he was in the zone for. But by the time that the outside world began to register. His body's aches and pains no longer allowing themselves to be pushed back. It felt as though he had been going at it for days.
