This is just one item in a display that looks at how wood can be turned into all sorts of things that don't look or feel like wood at all. It's all because wood is a renewable resource and could be a viable replacement for plastics and other oil-based materials.
I have virtually no idea what the finished piece will look like until I actually begin working with the wood. As a result, the form often emerges as I carve, and I frequently change my plans midway through the process. Naturally, I keep the many failures a secret.
After years of hyper-polished feeds and showroom-perfect homes, people are embracing the beauty of imperfection. Wabi-sabi spaces celebrate texture, visible brushstrokes, uneven stitching, and layered finishes.
There's a particular kind of panic that hits when you're facing a creative problem, and the well just feels... empty. Every idea seems stale. Every solution feels recycled. And the question creeps in: Have I finally used up all my good ideas? Maybe it's your third attempt at solving the same design problem, and every solution feels like a pale echo of something you've already tried. Or perhaps you've been churning out work for months, and suddenly the spark you used to rely on? Gone.
The advertising industry has always been in the business of making things, such as the OOH billboard, the 30-second spot, the snappy social post, the standard website: final, finite assets polished and pushed into the world. Agencies were paid, often by the hour, for producing final versions of these things and then moved on to the next project. Even with generative AI entering the picture, much of the conversation remains focused on making those same things faster or cheaper.
A graphic designer that isn't limited to working in 2D, Ward Goes has been working in aluminium of late. His recent solo show in Rotterdam, Literally Anything, was full of things that moved beyond the screen or printed page, including some wonderful metal signage and archival storage. The exhibition at Alley Space was the result of the designer's decision to pursue more tactical investigations alongside his commissioned work at the start of 2025.
When Sean Spellman opened Dawnlands in Westerly, Rhode Island, last year, it was more than just a new address on the map. Conceived as an art gallery and gathering place, Dawnlands was built entirely by Sean and his family-no contractors, no designers, no outside help. Each board and bench was made with intention, using local pine and sensibility shaped by Japanese, Scandinavian, and coastal Californian influences.
Tattoos and fermentation rarely appear in the same conversation, yet across the world, they share a quiet kinship. Both are practices of transformation, crafts that reshape raw material over time through care and relationships to the land, the spiritual, and the community. Tattooing inscribes identity and ancestry onto skin, while fermentation preserves, nourishes, and binds communities through shared taste and ritual. Both create change, brewing something more than themselves through embodied knowledge passed between generations.
Drawing Architecture Studio presents The Clock House No.2 at the 7th Shenzhen Bay Public Art Season in Shenzhen, Guangdong Province, China, on view until April 19th, 2026. Commissioned for the public art program, the Beijing-based practice reinterprets the historical automaton clock as architecture, using low-cost industrial components to construct a structure that chimes and glows every fifteen minutes. Where the clocks once gifted to emperors represented technical virtuosity and expensive craftsmanship, this installation adopts a deliberately rough and economical construction.
The studio is at my house within a ranch, surrounded by nature. It's on the second floor of the house, where there's better light. My routine all day shifts between studio work and housework, including outdoor garden work. I get up a bit before 7am, drink coffee in the yard, and get morning sunshine. Then my husband and I eat breakfast and do a bit of cleaning or some chores in the garden.
Tons upon tons of these single-use plastics end up in landfills or even floating in the ocean. Spanish design firm PET Lamp set out give another purpose to these otherwise short-lived materials. Partnering with artisans in communities from Chile to Ethiopia to Australia, the company celebrates both Indigeneity and sustainability, drawing upon time-honored global craft traditions while supporting local economies and recycling discarded materials.