Monologue The studio is a temporary cave for meditation; a land of localizable territory; it can be moved or altered at any time, and anywhere. The studio is a stuffy and unventilated cellar, when its master is troubled about finding progressive steps. It is of a splendid and magnificent grandeur, when its master adores every discovery. Maybe someday, the studio will become the fallacious Utopia resulting in the death of the artist. Maybe someday, the studio will turn out to