Notes from the end of the street

So — something new.

Earlier this year, I found myself making geometric shapes again. Lots of triangles, structured bits, ordered spaces. I’ve noticed this pattern before — they come back when I’m thinking things through, like those triangles help me process something underneath. And now? I feel like I’ve moved on from them. It's post-triangle season.

For the past few weeks, I’ve started working on a new series. It’s still about the urban spaces I’m always drawn to — concrete walls, city textures — but this time they feel... a bit softer. There’s more light (or space?) in them. In any way, they’re a bit more playful, and maybe a bit quieter too.

As always it all started while walking through my neighbourhood — especially those forgotten corners where things start to fall apart a bit. Cracked pavements, faded graffiti, old layers of paint and scribbles. There’s something about those walls, how they hold memories and stories without trying to. That’s where Notes from the End of the Street began.

I’ve finished the first two pieces and popped them up on my site already. More are coming soon. I’m working on some smaller and mid-sized ones for summer. Hopefully, they’ll be heading to Bochum and Hamburg for shows in the next few months, if all goes well.

What I’m chasing in these pieces is a kind of everyday poetry. Scribbles that used to mean something clear, but over time turned into something more abstract, more emotional, maybe also universal. It’s still concrete. Still city. But softer.

Like those surfaces need to breath a little.