I had an opportunity to attend a week-long workshop with the artist Kim Asendorf, and it was one of those rare experiences that quietly reshapes how you think about making things.

He shared how his work comes out of experimentation—just following threads of curiosity, letting ideas shift and grow over time. There was no pressure to define a clear “style,” no rush to polish things. Just a deep trust in the process.

Coming from a more technical background, where things are often about control, precision, and output, it felt like a much-needed reminder. That art can be slow. That it can be raw and unresolved. And that developing a personal voice isn’t something you force—it’s something that unfolds, patiently, through doing.

Personal Note

There was an earthquake here in Bangkok last Friday, completely unexpected. Thankfully, there wasn’t major damage where we are, and we’re safe. But it was definitely unsettling. The kind of thing that shakes you out of the day-to-day, literally and otherwise.

I’m really grateful for the messages and check-ins—it meant a lot.

Mostly, I’ve just been sitting with a quiet kind of gratitude. For safety. For stillness. For the small routines that help life feel normal again.

Until next week!

Patt