Taking Time

13/07/2026

Reading time: approx. 2-3 min

Right now, a lot is happening in my small, summery studio, Atelier Niyol. Currently, alongside my Elements series, I am focusing on a piece for my latest submission to the Luxembourg Art Prize. For a few years now, I've been submitting a piece annually—specifically, the one that has occupied me the most during that particular chapter of my life. My primary goal isn't to win a prize, but rather to maintain a sense of continuity, a dedication to diving deep into a specific theme. Plus, having a deadline naturally adds a bit of excitement to the whole process, haha.

I am not exactly the type of person who can work wonderfully without a goal or a deadline. At least, I have my struggles with that from time to time, though I wouldn't completely count myself among those who can't get anything done without pressure. I believe that engaging with a project you love doesn't necessarily require time pressure, but it can certainly benefit from it.

At any rate, entering the competition again this year made me realize something: I hadn't even noticed that I've been exploring this map theme for several years now. At some point, I started painting on maps simply because I found them to be a fascinating surface—a refreshing alternative to a traditional canvas. Over time, very different results and pieces began to evolve. Many of them I have never shared because it felt somewhat inconsistent to me.

As an artist, you often hear people say:

"Why don't you sell that? Why don't you show it? You could easily sell that for a lot of money!"

Yes, you absolutely could. But that is precisely the point, and probably the biggest distinction between someone who wants to deeply immerse themselves in a subject and someone who just wants to sell a product. When you truly want to commit yourself to a creative process, it's not about the end product per se. It is much more about understanding the journey, discovering new facets, and expanding your own horizons.

You develop a fine intuition for how a color changes depending on the texture underneath, how a blank space on a canvas suddenly takes on immense importance, and how a first attempt at a new theme can unfold so beautifully. Art is like life: in constant motion. And yes, I know that sounds super cliché, and a while ago I probably would have rolled my eyes at it, haha. But that is also part of it—allowing yourself to be included in that evolution.

This map series is deeply fulfilling to me right now because it allows me to express an important aspect of myself. Or perhaps I should say aspects? Because these pieces are partly intertwined with a topic I am currently exploring through inner work: parts work. So eventually, I will have various map fragments, each shaped by different parts of my own being. At least by those that felt like participating. It probably sounds a bit abstract, but I will delve deeper into that in future posts.

But what does all of this ultimately show me? Process, growth, and change require time. We all know that. But do we actually live by it? Do we give ourselves enough time? Do I give myself enough time?

In this case: Yes. And it happened completely unconsciously. No striving, no forcing. And for that, I am incredibly grateful. It aligns so perfectly with what these map pieces are showing me: many paths, many places, many stations. And if you take your time for every single stretch of the journey, then all the many colors within it can truly begin to bloom.

In that sense: Take your time.


Thank you so much for reading!

These posts are a part of my artistic journey, shared here with you.

If this insight resonated with you and you'd like to accompany me a little further on this path, you can support my studio work with a small contribution toward new colors or a creative coffee break. 

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