When to Put Down the Measuring Tape and Just Try It
During my studio redesign, one idea kept resurfacing again and again:
At some point, you have to throw away the pen and pencil, put down the measuring tape, and simply try things out.
Planning a studio—especially a small one—can be deceptively difficult. There are so many moving parts that even measuring down to a quarter inch can feel critical.
On paper, everything looks controlled and logical.
In reality, that same plan can fall apart the moment a piece of furniture enters the room.
The Limits of Planning on Paper
In my case, whenever it was physically possible, I found it far more effective to:
- Haul out stands, cabinets, and shelves
- Place them where I thought they might work
- Then make a judgment call
More than once, something that measured perfectly on paper simply didn’t work in the actual space.
A footprint on a floor plan tells you almost nothing about how an object behaves in real life.
Why Measurements Aren’t the Whole Story
Colour, height, depth, and weight all matter.
And not just literal weight in pounds—visual weight.
Some items dominate a room even if their measurements suggest they shouldn’t.
When I first designed a studio in this room years ago, I had bookcases along what is now my synth wall. Those bookcases felt heavy and closed-in.
Today, that same wall is lined with a large white shelving unit filled with gear—and yet the room feels lighter and more open.
Why?
Because you can see the wall behind the shelves.
That visual depth changes everything—something no flat drawing ever made obvious to me.
Seeing vs. Imagining (Most of the Time)
Unless you’re working with a proper 3D design program—and have the skill and patience to model your space accurately, in colour, with realistic dimensions—you’re probably doing what most of us do:
Sketching ideas on paper.
Roughing them out on a computer.
Hoping for the best.
If you watch this video series unfold, you’ll notice a pattern.
If something was small enough for me to move on my own, I usually preferred to see it in place rather than trust a drawing.
When Experimentation Fails (and Still Helps)
That approach isn’t flawless.
I built two racks that didn’t fit the shelves they were intended for. Even hands-on experimentation can lead you down the wrong path.
But as a general rule, physically moving things around gave me better answers faster than any amount of measuring ever did.
Trial, Error, and the Right Fit
Of course, this method isn’t for everyone.
Some people can visualize a space so clearly that their sketches translate perfectly into reality. I admire that skill—but it’s not mine.
For me, the critical decision always came down to one simple question:
How does this feel when it’s actually in the room?
By allowing myself to experiment—moving things, testing layouts, living with them briefly before deciding—I ended up with a studio that feels right to me.
Not perfect on paper.
But functional, comfortable, and inspiring in practice.
Sometimes the only way to know whether something works is to stop planning and give it a try.




