How I Turned a Dusty Mill Unit into a Pop-Up Gallery

Recently, I did something completely out of my comfort zone. I transformed a disused curtain showroom in an old Lancashire mill into a fully staged, open-to-the-public pop-up gallery.

It was a lot. At times it was chaos and it took over my life — and my family’s — but it was also one of the most rewarding things I’ve ever done.

I want to take you behind the scenes of what it really looks like to turn a wild idea into something magical, what truly matters, and why I’d do it all again in a heartbeat...

Others Don’t Have to Understand Your Vision

After convincing the mill landlady to lend me the unit, reality hit hard: clean and stage the space, organise other artists, prepare and frame my own work, market the event — the lot. It was quickly feeling like I’d bitten off way more than I could chew.

I stood in the corner of this HUGE, dusty, industrial unit thinking, what have I done?

But this is me all over. I rarely think things through — I just dive in headfirst. The space had this raw, industrial beauty and, most importantly, I had a vision. I’d had my eye on that room since I moved into my studio down the hall last October, and it was now or never.

Yes, it was rough around the edges — the walls were patchy, the windows dusty — but I’m drawn to character, and I love all things preloved. To me, that was part of the charm.

My Brain vs Time

Of course, I had more ideas than time to organise them. I borrowed second-hand furniture from the removals company downstairs. I asked a friend to make tray frames from reclaimed wood I found around the mill (they were stunning, by the way). I created promotions with other local businesses, designed a print catalogue, attended networking events, posted endlessly in local Facebook groups, wrote press releases, made signage, reworked the layout multiple times, organised kids' crafts and refreshments… and essentially moved half my life into the gallery to make it feel just right.

It was… a lot.

People asked if it was all worth the endless hours I worked (coming from a place of care of course). And I get it — but for me, these details were so important. There’s something about walking into a room and feeling a painting. Seeing how it interacts with light, furniture, and people. It helps you picture how it might live in your own home.

I took a step back to appreciate that not everyone would see my vision — and that’s okay. I stuck to my gut and cracked on, now I'm really glad I did and I'm so proud of what I  achieved.

The Art World Doesn’t Have to Be Intimidating

Even as an artist, some galleries still feel a bit exclusive. So opening up my work in a more relaxed, welcoming way was really important to me.

This wasn’t to be a white-cube gallery. I wanted the mill to feel warm, lived-in and buzzing with creative energy.

Involving other local artists, offering art at a wide range of prices, plus free refreshments and kids’ activities for everyone who came — that was all part of it. I had some lovely conversations on the day, including a few about how rarely children are given space to engage with abstract art. It got me thinking: maybe there’s a gap here to explore? If you’ve got any ideas or thoughts around that, I’d genuinely love to hear them.

We were also lucky to be part of the Rossendale Art Trail, which brought art lovers all over the valley to studios just like ours — many in these incredible old mill spaces that have supported artists since the 1980s.

For me, the most important takeaway is that there is a huge appetite for accessible art in the local area and I’m thrilled to have been able to deliver some of that, even for just one day.

Shared Success Is the Best Kind

Let’s be honest: this whole thing nearly broke me. There were tears. There was self-doubt. Especially in those last few days.

But I didn’t do it alone...

I had an incredible team of family and friends who stepped in with everything, including event planning, photography, social media, music, sales, refreshments, packaging, DIY, frame-making, kids’ crafts, childcare — and a lot of emotional support.

Honestly, they kept me going.

And the three brilliant artists who joined me — Sarah Hill, Elizabeth Crabtree and Liz Taylor — helped bring the space to life with their beautiful work and generous spirits.

I walked into the unit that morning, sunlight pouring through freshly uncovered windows, artwork lit and ready — and it looked wonderful. But I was too nervous to really take it in.

I worried if my marketing had landed. I worried whether anyone would turn up. I worried whether they’d even like it.

But they did turn up. A steady stream of lovely people — some local, some from further afield — and the space buzzed all day. The energy, the chatter, the smiles… it was everything I’d hoped for. I had amazing conversations, met new people, and made memories I’ll never forget.

I did it for me — to prove to myself I could. But sharing the success with people I love? That was the best feeling in the world.

So… What’s Next?

I’m still riding high. Still catching up on sleep. Still pinching myself a bit.

But one thing I know for sure: this was just the beginning.

The confidence it’s given me, and the joy of seeing people engage with my work in real life — it’s lit a fire.

So if you missed this one, don’t worry. There will be more. And next time, I really hope you’ll be part of it.

Krissy xx