Getting back on track (scraps)

“Everything is feeling, everything is real. Colour brings me joy.” Sonia Delaunay

It’s been a while since I’ve dedicated regular time to a personal creative practice. For the sake of stability and to gain experience, but also because I’d started to feel a bit disconnected from my illustration projects, I prioritised full-time work for the past ten years. Apart from a few sporadical commission here and there, I haven’t pick up a pencil just for fun in a long time. But lately, the opposite feeling has surfaced: I’ve been craving a more honest and personal form of creative expression, in contrast to impersonal corporate goals. So, about a year ago, I decided it was time to reconnect with my creativity again, even with the little free time I had.

Part of this process involved revisiting my earlier work to find what still resonated, what would make me want to pick up a pencil again, and reawaken what truly brings me joy. As a designer and illustrator, I’ve explored many image-making techniques, fuelled by a never-ending curiosity and a desire to experiment with new formats. I thrive with an academic mindset: I love doing workshops and courses for the pure joy of learning new things, researching, meeting people and fresh perspectives. Playing with collage and paper cutouts takes me back to a raw, nostalgic place at the art desk—no screens, just materials, tools, my hands and intuition. Years ago, when I decided to incorporate textile techniques into my illustration practice, I recognised a similar rhythm, but something else clicked stitched, as it became a very honest, natural blend of my inherited skills and personal interests.

That’s because textile crafts and their aesthetics have shaped me since early childhood. I grew up surrounded by the skilled hands of my mother, grandmother, and aunts, who spent hours embroidering, sewing, knitting, and crocheting. I made my first embroidery at age six, and ever since, I’ve continue exploring textile expressions—learning new embroidering techniques or sewing clothes (including a bag-making obsession in my late teens…). I’ve inherited boxes of fabric samples, collections of embroidery thread, hand-knitted garments, crocheted pieces, and vintage textiles magazines that I treasure and keep safely.

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The image above on the right is part of a patchwork illustration series I made some years ago to celebrate the arrival of the autumn season, its colours and rituals. Knitting was one of these rituals and a creative exercise. My mom knitted sweaters for me and my brother when we were kids. Helping her choose colours and wind skeins of yarn, doing fittings as the sweaters and dresses grew, are some of my most vivid childhood memories. Execution-wise, this was a challenging piece to design, as I tried to translate that nostalgic feeling through very geometric pieces of fabric. While going through my old sketches and concept drawings, I realised this was one of the image making techniques I enjoyed the most—I loved the process, its precise mechanics, the colour planning, the maths behind counting fabric pieces, the challenge of execution, embroidering the details, and the exhilarating feeling of seeing the big picture start to form.

Curiously (or not), more recently, knitting was the skill I turned to when I needed a creative outlet and a much-needed off-screen space outside of work. Once again, I looked to the seasons for inspiration, this time summer. Living in a country with long winters and short, scarce sunny days, I now value and need the warmth of summer on my skin more than ever. So, I decided to knit a sea-nature-sunset-colour inspired cotton t-shirt. Of course, I had to make it a challenge for myself, opting for a colour-as-you-go strategy, sorting threads and colours almost line by line, so I could better control the evolving colour scheme. Incredibly… time… consuming… but so worth it in the end.

Getting back to a consistent creative practice through the calm joy of handmade things, while balancing a full time job, hasn’t been easy, so this has been a slow process. However… September came, and in a not-entirely-unexpected plot twist from a bad movie, I was laid off from my job… which means: free time and no excuses.

So! I’m picking up the pieces again, and I’m curious to see what I’ll create, with the random paper & textile cutouts and torn scraps I’ve gathered over the years. You’re welcome to follow along if you’d like :)