About

I think in objects. When something is bothering me (a sentence, a mood, a problem with no shape yet), I end up drawing it as a thing with edges and a weight, and only then do I understand it.

Most days that goes toward work: the mechanical insides of things, decisions measured in fractions of a millimetre. But it doesn’t switch off at the end of the day. It follows me into books, into conversations, into the walk home, quietly checking everything for the part that’s out of true.

I read more than I make, and I’m drawn to writers who treat a locked door or a dry well as a serious problem. KALNIENK is where the rest of it goes: renderings of things that will never be built, half-formed notes, the occasional sentence that isn’t about hardware at all. Not a portfolio. A room I keep for myself, with the door left open.