Studio Notes

Some drawings begin with a place that feels familiar, even if it isn’t. A kitchen late in the afternoon. The light already turning softer. Someone standing at the counter with their back to the room. The kind of scene that doesn’t announce itself but stays somewhere in memory. I started sketching this interior drawing after noticing how certain rooms return to mind at odd times. A window above the sink. A small lamp on the table. The quiet order of objects that have been in

It’s still green, mostly. But not the same green as in July. There’s a dryness in the air now — not cold, just sharper. You start noticing the weight of things. Heavier shoes on the stairs. A neighbor dragging their balcony chair inside. The light is lower in the afternoon, and I’ve started drinking Darjeeling again — the one from Hans & Grete - Kaffe og Te in the black tin with the traditional Chinese motif. It tastes better in this kind of weather. Yesterday I re-organized

I didn’t grow up thinking about poster art. But it was there in the background — the kind of design you only notice later, once you start paying attention to space, shape, and restraint. My great-granduncle, Aage Rasmussen , designed travel posters for DSB (Danish national rail company) in the mid-twentieth century. Graphic compositions with very little excess: a train, a platform, a few figures, and large areas of colour. I didn’t study those images consciously as a child. B