A New Studio: On Space, Chaos, and the Shape of Things to Come
It has been a while since I last shared a studio update. The reason is simple: I have moved into a new space. And like any true beginning, it started with boxes.
Right now, my new studio is far from being fully arranged. Paintings still rest in their protective wrapping, books wait to be sorted, tools and papers are scattered across every available surface. It is, to put it mildly, a beautiful chaos.
But in this state of transition, I find something unexpectedly inspiring. An unpacked studio is like a blank canvas—full of potential but not yet committed to any particular form. Every object, every stack of paper, every rolled canvas is still in dialogue with the space itself. The shelves are not yet filled, the walls are still silent, the light changes throughout the day as if testing where to land.
This moment of “not yet” feels strangely appropriate for my practice. My work with collage and glitch is fundamentally about reassembling fragments into new configurations. What is moving a studio, if not a similar act of disassembly and reconstruction?
The unpacking will continue slowly—intentionally so. I want to feel how this space breathes before I impose a rigid order upon it. Perhaps I never will. Perhaps the creative chaos is exactly what this studio needs to become a true home for new urban landscapes, new collisions of architecture and abstraction, new glitches waiting to be discovered.
For now, I am simply grateful for the walls, the light, and the promise of what is to come.
If you would like to see more of this process, you can browse through my older studio photographs, which I have shared before here in the Journal.
