Notes from the studio
What shipped, what worked, and what we'd do differently
A copper snail carries a glass greenhouse, keeping one small garden moving at its own pace.
128 blue-green streamlines bend around a copper leaf, tracing several ways to let go.
A small ghost arrives with impeccable manners and a pot of tea. It only came in to put the kettle on.
A tiny moth maintenance crew keeps the moon in working order. Even the moon needs a little care.
A tiny surfer rides a wave out of an airmail envelope. Some things arrive without an address.
A warmly lit mountain gondola crosses the layered alpine dusk on its long way home.
A terracotta umbrella catches the rain and grows a small garden of yellow flowers.
An apricot clock gives way to an ink-blue tide, pulled toward a small moon on its own schedule.
A glowing book keeps a small archive of afternoon light, with warm notes still orbiting after dark.
Copper contour lines rise into a midnight mountain signal, while one lit cabin tunes in to the quiet.
A mountain road turns like a record while a small van takes its time.
Let the weather take its time.