A JANUARY 2025 EDITION

I am in love with this sentence:

"Forgive yourself for not knowing earlier what only time could teach."

Sometimes regret can only be forgiven by the voice of reason that you simply couldn’t have known better at the time.

Stripes refuse to stay put. They wrap columns, ceilings, and walkways in layered rhythms, giving it an illusion of movement. It’s playful, loud, and deliberate, a celebration of repetition as identity.
This structure embodies the soulful rhythms of African architecture, harmonizing traditional aesthetics with a hint of contemporary flair. Crafted from locally sourced materials that whisper stories of the land, the building stands as a symbol of cultural resilience and artistic brilliance. Its intricate patterns and symbolic motifs weave a tapestry of heritage and innovation, paving the way for a new chapter in the narrative of African design.

The ceiling speaks, the structure and patterns feel coded… symbolic, almost instructional, echoing West African visual languages where geometrical forms carry meaning. These awe-inspiring architectural structures were incorporating sustainable practices into their structures long before it became such a prominent topic .

Think of the Dogon cosmology in their symbols and balance, all while weaving into the traditional Kente geometry and colour logic.

Between the precision of a product creator and the artful eye of a designer lies an appetite for spontaneity and fun—ingredients that magically diffuse throughout this Milan penthouse. Atop a quiet Milanese neighbourhood, this penthouse renovation is a vibrant, modernist crown within a 1900s, Liberty-style building. Raised in a penthouse, designer Thomas Zangaro understands their otherworldly, imagination-sparking potential, “They’re not apartments; they’re almost parallel dimensions.

This home isn’t interested in harmony for harmony’s sake. Instead, materials speak across contrasts—heavy travertine against cool stainless steel, reflective surfaces beside porous ones. Each choice feels deliberate yet unforced, allowing tension to do the work. It’s in these quiet frictions that the space gains depth and character.

What makes this space compelling is its refusal to start with certainty. There’s no fixed palette, no rigid script. Materials arrive through intuition—travertine beside stainless steel, reflective art against porous stone, Chilean timber lifted to the ceiling instead of the floor. Precision meets curiosity here, and restraint leaves room for play.

Naomi Wanjiku is a Kenyan artist whose practice sits at the intersection of steel fibre, form, and memory. Her work draws deeply from material traditions while pushing them into contemporary, sculptural language.

Think of rocks as pendants, becoming bridges between geology, craftsmanship, and cultural memory. These forms hold deep time within them, grounding contemporary adornment in the weight and presence of the earth.

Gesture, lineage, renewal. This work reimagines mukanda, the Gikuyu rope-making tradition, as sculptural adornment. Crocheted stainless-steel wire and beads are embroidered into braided fibre forms, extending a living material lineage. The gestures feel deliberate and bodily, carrying the rhythm of making across generations while shifting into contemporary expression.

Mabati sits at the centre of Naomi Wanjiku’s material language. Linked to Mabati Women’s Groups of the 1960s in central Kenya, sheet metal becomes a marker of collective labour and social change. These women replaced grass-thatched roofs with mabati, reshaping both shelter and status. Here, the material holds history, resilience, and women’s quiet, transformative power.

Currently immersed in a residential project in Abu Dhabi, where I’m exploring how African material language travels across landscapes. Warm woods, tactile weaves, sculptural forms, and quiet pattern references are layered into a desert context, creating a space that feels grounded and familiar.

With a new week comes a new studio obsession and a new visual note for the week. The image above comes from Christmas at my home village, where I found myself drawn to wild flowers growing freely, unnoticed. A small moment of beauty, held gently.
Until next week.🙂