Some days, the studio doesn’t begin with drawing—but with the slow gathering of what’s always been there. The objects closest to the hand, the ones chosen without thought, lined along the table in quiet witness. Not everything is new. Not everything needs to be. But each tool holds its own kind of invitation—silent, familiar, waiting….

A notebook lives quietly, waiting to reveal its secrets. Within, pages unfold like whispers—layers of thought, touch, and color, slowly taking shape.Here, (NØ) crafts moldboard pages, weaving textures and stories that will soon become wallpaper—walls that breathe with nature’s spells.But some stories are shy. They hide beneath folds, behind zigzags, inside envelopes—waiting to be discovered…

There are seasons (NØ) doesn’t want to forget. A sunlit path, a bloom at her feet, the way a breeze moved through tall grass while the light slanted gold. These are not stories to be written—but pressed. Quietly. Carefully. Between pages. This summer, (NØ) wandered with a pocket of petals and brought them home not…

It always begins with a feeling. Not a theory, not a rule—just the faint trace of a hue that lingers in the back of (NØ)’s mind like the scent of a place she never has been, but somehow remember. Finding the right palette is not about matching tones—it’s about resonance. How does a colour feel…