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Peter Grundy has built a career rooted in simplicity and is among the pioneers of conceptual infographics. From founding the studio Grundy & Northedge in 1980 to his more recent projects signed as Grundini, he has chosen to work more with information than advertising, dedicating himself to translating complex concepts into clear, accessible, and universal images. His graphic language is geometric and narrative, characterized by balance and reduction: a recognizable and distinctive visual code that serves the idea even before the image.

For What’s in a Lamp?, Grundy chose to tell Foscarini’s story through six lamps, six values, six visions: Lumiere speaks of internationality, openness and Foscarini design’s ability to engage with different cultures, each with its own way of experiencing light; Chouchin explores the meaning of home as a refuge and personal space; Buds embodies the spirit of avant-garde and the drive toward the future; Binic celebrates creative freedom; Satellight tells the story of the personality of luminous objects and how they connect emotionally with people; Kurage pays tribute to craftsmanship, the harmony between mind, hand, and material.

Six illustrations, each rising within the silhouette of a lamp, animated by a system of symbols and icons that visually translate each core value. Every image in this silent narrative cycle is a self-contained, dense, and eloquent system.

There is something profoundly philosophical in the way Peter Grundy approaches form. His images, stripped down to the essentials, are like contemporary ideograms. In an age saturated with visual stimuli, Grundy reminds us that subtraction can be more radical than addition. And that a lamp is not just an object that lights: it can be a metaphor. Of identity, home, freedom. Of vision.

Follow Foscarini on Instagram to discover the full What’s in a Lamp? project and read the complete interview to dive deeper into Peter Grundy’s vision and artistic approach.

Can you briefly tell us about your journey? How did you end up doing what you do today?

In 1980, Tilly Northedge and I founded a studio to explore information design in a new, imaginative and personal way. First, because nobody else was doing it. Second, because while at the Royal College of Art two years earlier, we had grown interested in a kind of design that was more about explaining than selling.

Over the next 26 years, as Grundy & Northedge, we redefined what is now known as infographics.

As Graphis magazine once put it: “In the design world, the communication of information has never had the allure of more glamorous disciplines. Designing a poster can cast the designer as an artist, creating the identity of a multinational turns them into a strategist. But who designs maps for housing developments, or instructions for tying a bow tie?” That was us – Peter Grundy and Tilly Northedge.

In 2006, I founded Grundini to focus on smaller, creatively driven projects, often in collaboration with other designers and agencies. Former Scenario colleague Angela Wilkinson wrote: “Today Peter Grundy, aka Grundini, tackles modern messiness by designing simple, shared and accessible architectures of the future.”

Who were the key figures – designers, artists, illustrators – who shaped your visual and creative education?

Benno Zehnder, who taught me Swiss style while I was at the Bath Academy of Art 1973-1976.
Lou Klien, who introduced me to the American spirit when I went to the Royal College of Art 1976-1979.

You’ve often said that your style comes from necessity and simplicity. What does “visual economy” mean to you, and how central is it to your work today?

We created a drawing style in 1980 to convey our ideas that came from the geometric methods we had learned to design symbols, trademarks and letterforms. Over the years this style has developed, though the principle has always been the same: communicate ideas, simply and internationally, without the need for words.

Tell us about the concept behind your series for What’s in a Lamp?. What story did you want to tell, starting from the silhouettes of Foscarini’s iconic lamps?

I thought it would be interesting to tell a specific story for each lamp that would reflect Foscarini’s values. The themes we chose are: International, Home, Avant-Garde, Craftsmanship, Future and People.

Which of the values you chose to represent was the most challenging to translate into a visual language?

Avant-garde.

And which one resonated most with your own vision – the one that inspired you the most?

Avant-garde. What could be more fun than a vision of the future? My idea is a lamp that is a solar system, with Planet Earth in the center and the future orbiting around it.

You work with static images, yet they always seem to tell a story. What makes a strong visual narrative without movement or words?

The core of any design is an idea. The idea comes before any picture, symbol or animation. Some years ago I made a diagram to explain how I work: it shows an iceberg, with the tip being the picture, but the much larger part under the water that you don’t see is the idea.

How do you choose the symbols or icons when you turn complex ideas into images? Do you follow a clear method, or rely more on instinct?

I invent icons and symbols that tell a story effectively and elegantly, like someone would use a written language.

How do you approach color? Is it mainly about aesthetics, or do you use it as a language to convey meaning?

Colour plays two roles: first as a way of signposting, second as a way of making things beautiful. I choose colours instinctively. I often find that colours one would imagine as looking horrible together, like pink and orange or brown and grey, actually look great when used in the correct proportions. Something I learnt while working with architects.

Infographics were originally created to simplify. Do you still see them as a functional tool, or more as a form of art?

When I first started working in 1980, no one was doing infographics in a creative way. While at the Royal College of Art in the late ’70s we saw an opportunity. In those years most designers and illustrators were involved in advertising, brand and packaging — these were the glamorous areas of creativity. When Tilly Northedge and I founded Grundy & Northedge our aim was to do “Information” with the same creativity as advertising or corporate identity. We did so by using art and ideas to tell stories or explain complicated things.

What’s the most useful piece of advice you’ve received in your career? And what’s one that truly made you stop and reflect?

There’s only one thing worse than being bad, that’s being mediocre.

What does creativity mean to you?

Freedom to express individuality.

Ery Burns is a British artist and illustrator with a distinctive style—spontaneous lines, vibrant colors, and intricate patterns. She often says she inherited her doodle gene from her great-great-great-grandmother, an Indian artist who grew up in the foothills of the Himalayas. Her drawings emerge from intuition, taking shape directly on the page without a predefined structure, in a flow that weaves together organic forms, repeating patterns, and a hint of irony. The result is a visual universe that shifts between imagination and reality, evoking that childlike sense of wonder people tend to lose as they grow up.

For What’s in a Lamp?, Ery Burns reimagined Foscarini’s lamps through the lens of her creativity, exploring the emotional essence of light. She saw faces, creatures, and entire worlds waiting to emerge and brought them to life through her lines, allowing the shapes and volumes to guide her. Each lamp became a playful and hypnotic visual story, drawing the viewer in.

Buds is transformed into an inquisitive, thoughtful character, Gregg took on the form of a freshly laid egg, nurtured by a surreal bat-cat hybrid, while Twiggy became a fun, lighthearted piece wrapped in rainbows and patterns reminiscent of the 1960s.

In this interview, we talked to Ery Burns about her spontaneous approach to drawing and how she reinterpreted Foscarini’s lamps with her unmistakable style. Discover the full What’s in a Lamp? series on Instagram.

Can you share the journey that led you to become an illustrator? Were there pivotal moments that shaped your path?

I often say the same things in interviews as there are so many positive reasons why I love to draw, and I always like to come across as normal! The truth is, I grew up in a big family, and that doesn’t always guarantee that you’re not going to feel alone or be seen. I was the youngest of five, so I had a lot of colorful characters in my life and influences from older siblings, but my dad was a lawyer (and a workaholic), so he didn’t have that much time for us.

I remember that my crayons were like an escape where I could build worlds and exercise my imagination. It was like oxygen and helped regulate my emotions. Anytime I felt overwhelmed, I would disappear into my doodle art. So yes, the pivotal moment was escapism! Anytime I wanted to switch off, I would draw, which unfortunately included most of school… I’m terrible at math.

Your work is characterized by vibrant, highly detailed doodles filled with intricate patterns and bold colors. How did you develop this distinctive style, and what influences have shaped its evolution?

I always knew that maybe I had a unique way of making sense of the world. It was a subconscious process, but there were times as a kid when I would go through stages of being inspired by different artists or animations I came across.

I grew up watching Terry Gilliam films and Monty Python, and in the ’90s, Keith Haring and Basquiat were huge. I think they probably influenced me more than I realized. I also really liked Kandinsky, who shared my love of detail and bold lines.

Perhaps another factor was exposure to so much iconic music and vinyl artwork—my dad had the most amazing record collection: The Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin, Bob Dylan, The Beatles, Cream. I also recently found out through DNA testing that I am 4% Indian and Kazakh, both super rich, colorful cultures. So I like to imagine that the Indian heritage I carry in my bones also plays a part in the evolution of my doodles and influences in my art.

Doodling is often associated with spontaneity and intuition. How much of your process is instinctive, and how much is deliberate composition following a clear vision you have from the start?

I think it depends on the brief, but usually, the first sketches will be completely spontaneous and just a lot of brain farts! When I was working on Foscarini, I did have a gut feeling about how I wanted it to look, but it was really just that—I couldn’t see it, but I could make sense of it before it was down on paper.

How do you decide when a piece is ‘finished’? Is there a moment when you feel it has reached its full potential?

I think you get a good feeling about the balance—how the illustration interacts with itself, whether it flows or feels too juxtaposed. Also, adding the color scheme can definitely make or break a piece.

I did have to bin one of the Foscarini artworks because it looked like a bad Jurassic Park. You just know when it feels right.

Could you walk us through your creative process when developing a pattern?

I’ll try! I do A LOT of sketches and research on Google, especially if I need to draw something more realistically. For things like beer can art or package designs, they need to really pop out and be noticed, so the weirder, the better. In this case, it means I can be more natural and delve into my subconscious more easily. I use a lot of random detail in my linework to knit the images together.

Are there recurring themes or structures that naturally emerge in your designs?

That’s a tough question. It’s usually quite a subconscious process that’s not always easy to explain. I usually start with a random shape, and it organically grows from a kind of ‘ery’ seed.

I think eyes always come up, and maybe hands, because that makes things seem more awake and connected. Perhaps I imagine they’ll get sad if they can’t see or touch. I guess I draw on evolution, humor, organic matter, and themes of nature.

Your work bursts with energy, vibrant colors, and dynamic compositions. How do you decide on your color palettes, and what role does color play in conveying the mood or message of a piece?

Color is so important, and it makes or breaks the mood of an artwork for sure. I think, like my style, the color palette I am drawn to is quite symbiotic with my illustration, and it’s totally intuitive when I use it.

It definitely depends on the brief and whether it’s more commercial or personal. Usually, my own work will be darker in color, with earthy hues that you might find in nature. For kids’ illustrations, I would probably be drawn to a bolder palette or lighter themes.

For the “What’s in a Lamp?” project with Foscarini, how did you conceptualize your illustrations? Were there specific aspects of the lamps that inspired your creative direction?

I think, first and foremost, I thought about what the lamps meant to me, and it was initially that feeling of comfort when you find a light in the darkness.

I looked at the shapes and materials of the lamps and saw faces, an egg, frogspawn, and water. So it was really about knitting all of these themes together and translating them into a magical piece of artwork that reflected the different personalities of the lights.

Many of your illustrations have a playful, almost hypnotic quality, drawing the viewer in for closer inspection. Do you see your art as a form of storytelling? If so, can you delve into the narratives you explored in your series for Foscarini?

I imagined the lamps kind of morphing into these little worlds they were living in, interacting with the characters, connecting in cool ways.

I liked the idea of people seeing the art as if they were just waking up, questioning whether they were half-dreaming or half-asleep. I really enjoyed working on Buds—it became such an inquisitive-looking lamp, I’m fascinated by it.

Equally, Gregg, I visualized as a freshly laid egg in my world, being nurtured by a bat-cat carrying a slug. I love them all, but my favorite is Twiggy, as it’s the most space-age with a touch of the 1960s about it and a good dose of rainbows. I like that it got away with sticking its tongue out—what a cheeky lamp.

Did this collaboration for Foscarini’s “What’s in a Lamp?” project present any unique challenges or opportunities?

I think the biggest challenge was not really having a brief to lean on—being handed total creative freedom, which is a rare thing. It was awesome to work on, but it just made you question yourself a lot more, as you hope that you are making the right decisions while bringing the best version of yourself to the table.

As an artist, how do you stay inspired and continue to evolve your work? Are there particular practices or experiences that fuel your creativity?

For me, staying inspired means keeping my body and mind as healthy as possible—listening to music, running in the woods, or going to my favorite club and dancing like a lunatic to DJ LMSKN.

I think it’s also about not getting too bogged down by social media and hung up on what everyone else is doing—dancing to the beat of your own drum, even in darker times.

In today’s digital age, how do you see the role of traditional illustration evolving? How do you balance digital tools with traditional techniques in your work?

I see it evolving into a niche way of working that hopefully a few of us will still be brave enough to carry on!

People often feel safer following the crowd, but working in traditional pen art from scratch is 100% slower from start to finish, so that can be a handicap. I like to digitize my work using a tablet, which is great because it keeps the ebbs and flows of my natural linework alive. The whole process just takes a little longer.

What does creativity mean to you?

It means being everything and nothing—a grain of sand in the universe.

From a young age, Mattia Riami exhibited an innate passion for drawing and visual arts, honing his skills at the Venice School of Art and Milan’s IED. His work is distinguished by a “fast, nihilistic, and nervous” style, complemented by a refined use of color that evokes the warm, nostalgic palettes of 1940s and 1950s vintage ads.

For Foscarini’s “What’s in a Lamp?” project—where artists, designers, and creatives are invited to interpret light through Foscarini lamps—Riami explores daily life through six illustrations that depict scenes of ordinary familiarity. Yet, there’s always an unexpected detail that upends the perspective: Foscarini lamps transform into clouds, spaceships, and trumpets, becoming the twist that makes the ordinary extraordinary. This creates an atmosphere of freedom and lightheartedness, encouraging a fresh view of the world.

Simultaneously familiar and dreamlike, Riami’s illustrations reveal the transformative power of Foscarini lamps in a uniquely original way. Just as in the illustrations, these lamps transcend their basic functionality, turning any space into an environment that reflects the personality of those who choose them, telling stories and expressing desires and emotions.

Discover Riami’s full series for “What’s in a Lamp?” on Instagram @foscarinilamps and delve deeper into his artistic vision in our interview.

How did your artistic journey begin? Did you always know art would be your path?

“Yes, I was very lucky in this respect; I’ve always drawn since I was a child. I drew without knowing it would become my work, my way of being and expressing myself—I simply drew. I drew Disney characters, copied figures from illustrated books, and made my own prototype books by stapling together a few A4 sheets where I’d set up my story. As I grew older, I became more aware that this could become something serious, so I focused my studies on visual arts, turning those childhood games into my career.”

What motivates you to create, and where does your inspiration come from: curiosity, the search for meaning, or pure visual expression?

“I must say pure visual expression greatly attracts and influences me. In everyday life, I am captivated by many visual stimuli—drawings, illustrations, paintings, posters, and more—and this affects my desire to draw simply to express shapes and colors that emerge within me. However, during the design phase, all these forms take on meaning, and I enjoy building a story behind each project, as I did for ‘What’s in a Lamp?’.”

Your graphic style is distinctive and recognizable. How would you describe your style, and how has it evolved over time?

“I’d describe it with some of the words others have used to describe it for me: ‘a fast, nihilistic, and nervous line.’ I confirm, I always have a very physical relationship with my work, whether on paper or with digital brushes. I energetically use pencils on paper, sometimes even perforating it by accident or fearing I might damage the screen. I like that the journey my hand takes to draw that line is perceptible, and I feel a mysterious force pushing me to draw or color in a specific way. My approach has always been like this, influenced by my professors at IED in Milan, but it has refined over time through study and research.”

In this series, you depict scenes of everyday familiarity, especially domestic ones, where lamps become transformative elements that magically alter the scene’s perception, creating new, unexpected, and surreal interpretations. Can you tell us more about the inspiration behind this work?

“Certainly, that was the most enjoyable part! I wanted to convey a sense of everyday life and transform, through play, the lamps into objects different from what they are, as if the characters in the illustrations were surprised to discover that a lamp resembles another object or has another use. Like when we were children and used an empty kitchen roll tube as a telescope or megaphone. I was inspired by the shapes of the lamps and tried to return to childhood! So, I saw clouds, a spaceship, a trumpet, a baseball bat, and much more; I could have continued this game indefinitely.”

Which illustrations in this series are your favorites, and why?

“My absolute favorite is NUEE because I think it perfectly captured the surreal-reality blend I was aiming for. I also really love MITE for the same reason and LE SOLEIL for its atmosphere of freedom and lightness.”

It’s remarkable how, with just a few strokes, your illustrations tell entire stories, lives, situations, and emotions. Can you explain the narrative aspect of your creative process?

“Instinctively, I always use the human figure in my work; it’s rare for me to create a landscape without people or different subjects. The human being thus becomes the protagonist of my works, and their emotions are the foundation from which I build my stories. Through the protagonists, we can read and infer what is happening, what the story is, and the situations and events that characterize it. I think of the illustration for the TOBIA lamp, where we see a couple who has just moved in and starts unpacking boxes, with the joy and excitement of a new home, using the lamp as a trumpet for the moment’s euphoria. But it could just as easily be new purchases for the house; the atmosphere is the same, and the viewer sees what resonates most with their own experience.”

What interests you most about the reality around you?

“It’s hard to answer; certainly, nature fascinates me, and I’d like to know and explore it more—the shapes of plants, leaves, flowers, clouds—they’re true natural architectures or design works. I’m also always intrigued and attracted by visual communication in general: my eye always catches posters, book covers, and anything visual. I take many photos with my phone as reminders to study later what caught my attention.”

How would you describe your relationship with color in your work as an illustrator? What guided your color choices for your ‘What’s in a Lamp?’ series?

“My relationship with color has been renewed in recent years. Some time ago, after my studies, I primarily drew in black and white, adding only occasional touches of color. Certainly, the influence of the many colorful illustrations I saw around me sparked the desire to color my own. I think I was also influenced by the splendid work of Jean-Charles de Castelbajac, a master who was my art director for over two years. I’m fascinated by vintage illustrated ads from the 1940s and 1950s; I’ve always loved that era’s style, and I’ve always watched black-and-white films from that period. I love the hands holding white cigarettes, the clothing, hats, and fashion of those times. This has influenced how I draw characters, both male and female, in a contemporary and modern way but with a touch of that past. The color palette I used for ‘What’s in a Lamp?’ reflects those old advertisements; I studied shades that also conveyed a certain warmth.”

Besides the sources of inspiration you’ve mentioned, are there any masters who have particularly influenced your artistic vision?

“When talking about great masters, I think of Egon Schiele, Picasso, and Jean-Michel Basquiat, especially, as well as Keith Haring, who is one of my absolute idols for his personality more than his style. Contemporary artists like Marlene Dumas have also influenced me. Comics, especially graphic novels, and illustrators like Adelchi Galloni, who was my teacher at IED Milan, have also had a significant impact on me.”

Do you have a ritual or particular habits when working on your illustrations?

“My method involves initial research and reflection on what the project aims to achieve. This leads to the very first ideas, which I quickly jot down or sketch in diaries I keep, really just incomprehensible scribbles to get the idea down. Then, I move on to more elaborate drafts and finally to the final piece. The story is built in the first two phases.”

What does creativity mean to you?

“I think creativity is the ability to see the world differently, to imagine possibilities beyond the ordinary, and to transform abstract ideas into tangible reality. It’s a dynamic process involving intuition, inspiration, and personal expression, but it’s also sometimes discipline and constant effort to improve; it’s not always easy!”

Antje Damm, born in Wiesbaden, Germany, has made a name for herself in the world of children’s literature and illustration. Formerly an architect, Antje turned her focus to writing and illustrating books for children, with her work being recognized as one of the New York Times / New York Public Library’s Best Illustrated Children’s Books.

Antje brings her unique artistic vision to Foscarini’s “What’s in a Lamp?” editorial project by creating intricate dioramas within little matchboxes. These tiny worlds are not just fascinating, playful miniatures but are imbued with the soul and character of Foscarini’s iconic lamps. “Lamps are not merely sources of light; they are sculptures that enhance our living spaces,” the artist explains. “Good lighting is essential for any space, and it was thrilling to envision which lamps fit into which rooms, blending special and everyday situations.”

Antje’s architectural background shines through in her meticulous approach to these matchbox scenes with her creative routine balancing the freedom of illustrative work with the structured experimentation reminiscent of her architectural days. She crafts each scene with precision, blending techniques like drawing, collage, and paper cutouts to achieve a high level of abstraction and storytelling. For example, the Havana floor lamp’s enduring charm finds a natural setting in a forest that feels almost magical – Orbital becomes a focal point in a domestic scene with its “whimsical and unique design that reminds me of Calder’s mobiles, which I adore,” explains Antje – and another distinct world is created around the dynamic, sculptural shape of the Big Bang suspension lamp, showcased as a counterpoint to an artwork in an art gallery.

Follow the project on Instagram @foscarinilamps to delve deeper into Antje Damm’s imaginative creations and learn more about her artistic journey in our interview!

Hello Antje! Can you share a bit about your artistic journey and what inspired you to become an artist?

Drawing and painting have always been my way of expressing myself and what’s going on inside me, something I’ve enjoyed since I was a child. I worked as an architect for several years and stumbled into writing and illustrating children’s books about 20 years ago, almost by accident. Eventually, I had to decide where to focus my efforts because doing both, especially with four children, was too much. Being an artist, author, and illustrator is my dream job. I can work very freely and independently, constantly exploring new paths because I’m a curious person who loves trying new things and veering off the beaten path. Each book is different and presents a new challenge, and visually interpreting an idea is always a risk.

How has your background in architecture influenced your approach to visual storytelling and illustration?

In essence, developing an architectural concept and a book concept are very similar. During my time as an architect, I built many models and worked with them extensively. For some of my illustrations, where I construct sets from paper and cardboard and then photograph them, I approach it the same way. It’s a playful approach, highly experimental and free. I can easily make changes, additions, and then focus and influence through the photos. I also enjoy working in three dimensions.

Your use of mixed media is quite distinctive. How would you describe your style?

In essence, I find it hard to pin down. I illustrate my books in various styles because they deal with different concepts. I blend techniques like drawing, collage, digital illustration, depending on the project. For a recent book, I experimented with paper cutouts for their abstract quality, and it turned out to be a perfect fit for the story.

We’re curious about your matchbox artworks. How did the idea of using matchboxes as a canvas come about?

During the COVID-19 pandemic, all my book tours were canceled, leaving me with much more time on my hands. That’s when I got the idea to build these small matchbox dioramas. Since then, many people have grown fond of my little artworks and want to own one themselves. And I simply enjoy building them. It’s relaxing and fulfilling for me, but also challenging to tell a story in such a confined space.

Can you share insights into your creative routine? How do you maintain inspiration and overcome challenges during the artistic process?

I work from home, and my workspace always feels a bit too small. On the other hand, we live right by the forest, and I need nature to be creative. I spend a lot of time outdoors, marveling at the changing seasons, collecting mushrooms, observing plants and animals, but I also visit exhibitions frequently, always seeking new input.

In the “What’s in a lamp?” series, Foscarini lamps become part of home-stories told within the limited space of a matchbox. How did you integrate Foscarini’s lamps into these tiny narratives, and what challenges or joys did you encounter working with both the lamps and matchboxes simultaneously?

Furniture and lamp design have always fascinated me and were a significant part of my job as an architect. I love beautiful things, and lamps, in particular, are more than just functional fixtures to me; they’re design objects, almost sculptures, that I delight in contemplating repeatedly. Good lighting is essential in any space; it accompanies us constantly and makes the space functional. But it’s also much more than that. It was thrilling for me to consider where each lamp would best fit within different rooms—seeking both distinctive pieces and those that seamlessly blend into everyday settings. I definitely wanted some special ones but also to create ordinary situations.

What inspired you in this project?

The challenge and joy of this project lay in capturing the spirit and essence of each lamp. What thoughts and feelings do they evoke? Where could they be best showcased? For instance, with the Havana lamp, I thought it would fit beautifully in a natural setting, resonating with its archaic charm.

How did you choose which lamps to feature in these miniature scenes?

I chose the lamps that impressed me the most. Big Bang is an interesting sculpture that always looks different. I also selected a small and amusing lamp, like Fleur, because it demonstrates the broad and exciting spectrum that lamps can cover.

Do you have a personal favorite artwork from your “What’s in a lamp?” series, and if so, why?

I particularly like the box with the Orbital lamp. That’s my favorite lamp because it’s funny and so unique, and it reminds me of Calder’s mobiles, which I love.

And more generally, what is your favorite thing to portray?

Scenes from nature and small spaces that have a very special atmosphere.

Your art has a universal appeal transcending language barriers. How do you merge illustration and storytelling in your creative process?

The key to creating children’s books is to tell stories through images that complement and expand upon the text, sometimes asking questions or even contradicting it. The great thing is that anyone can “read” pictures, regardless of the language they speak.

Your illustrations feature a powerful color palette. How do you decide on colors, and what role do they play in conveying the mood of your pieces?

Colors express emotions, and I naturally use them. However, I work very intuitively and don’t overthink it. In my illustrated book ” The Visitor” you can see how colors can tell a story. A little boy visits an elderly woman, bringing color into her gray life.

Your work offers a unique perspective on reality. How do you nurture this creativity and alternative viewpoint?

For me, this perspective is integral to life itself, not just my work. Creativity extends beyond art; it’s about finding solutions and pathways in life, especially during challenging times. This is closely tied to hope, too.

What is creativity for you?

Creativity is an essential part of my life, both personally and professionally. It’s about constantly seeking solutions, exploring new paths, and finding beauty and meaning in everything around me.