When a Small Decision Changes Everything
In a previous post, I talked about managing space in a small studio and how creative—or sometimes unconventional—solutions are often required. This post isn’t really about a clever hack as much as it’s about an obvious solution that I was hesitant to commit to.
Not because it was complicated.
But because I wasn’t sure I was ready to lock it in.
On my second production desk, I had a computer monitor sitting on a riser. It worked fine, but it was also taking up valuable real estate. At the same time, I had been struggling to find a permanent home for my Akai Advance49 keyboard controller. The solution was staring me in the face: mount the monitor to the wall and free up the riser for the keyboard.
Simple. Logical. Obvious.
And yet, I hesitated.
The Fear of Commitment
At the time, my studio was still evolving. I was moving things around, refining layouts, and experimenting with workflow. The concern wasn’t whether wall-mounting the monitor would work—it clearly would—but what would happen after.
What if I changed desks?
What if I rearranged the room again?
What if I drilled the holes and later realized the placement was wrong?
The monitor could only be mounted in a limited number of spots, and mistakes would mean patching holes, adjusting mounts, and undoing work. That uncertainty kept me stuck longer than I care to admit.
Eventually, though, I reached a point where the studio layout felt stable enough to move forward. And once I did, the impact was immediate.
A Physical Shift You Can Feel
Mounting the monitor to the wall did more than free up desk space—it changed how the room felt. It was as if the wall itself had moved back a few inches. The desk instantly felt less crowded, less constrained.
The freed-up riser turned out to be the perfect home for the Advance49, positioned exactly where it made the most sense—right next to the Akai Force. That pairing was intentional. I’ve always liked keeping my Native Instruments rig grouped together and my Akai setup grouped together, and the Advance49—despite no longer being in production—is a fantastic companion for the Force.
That one decision tightened up the workflow, improved ergonomics, and made the space feel more deliberate.
The Power of Small Changes
It got me thinking about how often a simple decision can create a oversized improvement in a studio.
Have you ever made a small adjustment—moving one piece of gear, rerouting a cable, mounting something to the wall—that suddenly unlocked more space or made your workflow click?
I have a few decisions like that coming up in 2026. I’m hoping to wrap up this redesign sometime this year. There are still a few pieces of gear to bring in, a few areas to finalize, and some functional gaps to close. After that, I’ll be as “done” as a studio ever really gets.
Taking Your Time Isn’t a Failure
I’m genuinely amazed at how long this transformation has taken. But it was a major shift—from software-based to hardware-centric—and I’ve been balancing it alongside a very full teaching schedule. More than anything, I’ve slowed down because space is now more limited than ever, and the remaining decisions matter.
At this stage, I don’t want momentum—I want confidence.
That calmness feels earned. The studio has already exceeded my expectations, and now the goal is to make sure the final choices support how I actually work, not just how I imagine I might.
So I’ll leave you with a question:
Have there been times in your studio where everything slowed down—not because you were stuck, but because you wanted to get it right?
However fast or slow your studio evolves, I think what matters most is having a workable timeline, trusting your decisions, enjoying the process, and ultimately creating a space that invites creativity rather than fighting it.
Happy creating.
