Visiting Julie Mehretu’s show in Venice was a transformative experience. Standing before her monumental works, I was captivated by her intricate line drawings and the complexity of her layered compositions. It was a reminder of the power of scale and depth, and how lines—so fundamental yet profound—can carry narratives across space. Her ability to evolve a distinct visual language resonated deeply with me, reinforcing the endless possibilities of abstraction. Viewing these original works in person was a revelation, reminding me that art is not merely seen but felt. This encounter has inspired me to push the boundaries of my own practice, to deepen my engagement with line and material, and to embrace the evolving nature of artistic expression.

The Venice Biennale was an enlightening journey, one that expanded my perspective on the potential of art beyond traditional boundaries. Each pavilion was a testament to how technology is reshaping artistic expression—whether through sound, multimedia, or even unconventional mediums like smell, as seen in the Korean artist’s work. This innovative use of sensory elements broadened my understanding of how art can engage the viewer on multiple levels. Another significant takeaway was the impact of scale and technique; large-scale works, when paired with inventive presentation methods, can elevate visual aesthetics and create a more immersive experience. I also reflected on the importance of grounding thought processes in local contexts—drawing inspiration from writers, poets, and historians—while still communicating in a universal language. This balance between local narratives and global relevance is something I am keen to explore further in my own practice.

In shadows deep, where silhouettes reside,
More potent than the light they hide.

In quiet hours, I shape my craft,
In solitude where thoughts drift past.
The world falls still, a breath, a beat,
In silence, I am at peace.

Each walk here feels like a quiet conversation with the world, a communion of light and shadow that speaks in soft, elusive tones. My camera becomes my way of listening, capturing the delicate language of lines that stitch together this city. I’m drawn to the way shadows spill along a wall, melting into unexpected shapes, the quiet poetry of a railing casting its patterned silhouette on sunlit stone and asphalt. It’s as if Monaco is offering up these moments – glimpses of beauty only visible in fleeting pauses. In these images, I see something more than just buildings or lines; they hold a mystery, a silent heartbeat that I want to translate, to understand. There’s an intimacy in noticing, in holding onto these delicate exchanges between light and form, which somehow feel like a reflection of my own search for balance, clarity, and meaning.

The air here in Monaco feels incredibly fresh, almost as if it’s been painted with precision – crisp and invigorating. There’s something about the light here, too, that’s sharper, illuminating the details of every line around me. The buildings stand like sculptures, their edges clear and distinct against the bright sky. Even the boats in the harbor have a structured elegance to them, as though they’ve been drawn into the landscape rather than docked. Observing these lines feels like unlocking a new language, one that speaks directly to the core of my work. I find myself wanting to translate each line I see into my own vocabulary, sketching out their essence with my mind’s eye.

In the studio, there’s a profound silence that envelops me – a quiet that brings an intense focus, almost meditative in nature. Here, I can hear my thoughts more clearly, each one shaped like the lines I’m so drawn to outside. This space feels like a canvas (or paper) in itself, waiting for me to layer it with my ideas. I am reminded of why lines hold such power in my work; they are the bare bones, the foundation of all impressions. There’s a quiet thrill in knowing that in this serene, ordered space, I can begin anew, distilling what I see into my art.