The first installation we ever ran lasted three hours. None of it was drilling.
The morning a friend asked us to mount his television, we arrived a little early. Out of nervousness — neither of us had done one before — we sat in the room for a while. We watched where the morning light fell across the wall. We noticed where his sofa actually sat (it had been moved from where the previous installer thought it should be). We held the TV in three different positions before settling on one. The drilling took twelve minutes.
Afterwards he said it was the calmest service appointment he had ever had. We had only sat in his room for an hour. It hadn't seemed remarkable to us. We told him so.
The reason it had been calm, he said, was that we had not arrived with the answer. We had arrived with our attention, and we had given the room time to tell us where the screen wanted to go. That sentence is the studio now.
Six years later we are three installers, one calendar, one persimmon-marked van. We take one sitting per half-day, no more. We do not advertise; we do not grow. Two acquisition offers have been politely returned. The pace is the studio; growing would change what the studio is.