Recently, in Warsaw, a visual artist received a rare and generous gift: a 106-square-meter studio space granted by the city. Let that sink in — 106 square meters. That’s not a cramped room or borrowed corner. That’s a full-scale, private, dedicated space for artistic work, offered at a time when even 10 m² in a city center comes at a premium.

The building is in poor condition. The floor has a hole, the walls need scraping, the bathroom is outdated. But it’s a studio — a workspace — not a luxury residence. And yet, shortly after the keys were handed over, a public call went out. A long list of needs was published: furniture, appliances, tools, materials. A fundraising campaign followed. The tone shifted from gratitude to expectation. From “what an opportunity” to “here’s what’s still missing.”

Here’s where things get complicated.

Art deserves support. Artists often struggle to sustain themselves, and creative labor is frequently undervalued. There’s no question that communities should uplift those who add meaning, challenge, and beauty to the world. But receiving something as substantial as this space — and immediately asking for more — reveals something else: our increasingly blurred sense of what constitutes “enough.”

The studio may not be ready for a magazine shoot, but it’s more than enough to begin. It is functional. It is full of potential. It is, in fact, a dream for many artists who spend their lives working in kitchen corners, basements, or shared rooms. Creativity is not born from polished surfaces — it thrives in chaos, in imperfection, in limitation.

This is not about criticizing one artist. It’s about a larger cultural moment: where the instinct to ask follows every act of generosity, where receiving isn’t the end, but the start of a new wishlist. At some point, we have to ask — is the problem a lack of resources, or a learned belief that we can’t begin without the perfect setup?

A studio is a place to work, not to be worked on forever. There is dignity in doing what you can with what you have. And often, that’s where the best art begins.

Because if 106 square meters isn’t enough to start… what ever will be?