I arrived in Portlligat slowly, following the winding coastal road as the landscape opened up to the sea. The day was subdued, the light filtered through a thin layer of clouds that softened the outlines of everything it touched. Colours felt restrained. Small white houses appeared between rocks and greenery, and the whole place seemed unusually still. It was hard to imagine that this quiet setting had once been home to one of the most eccentric artists of the 20th century.

When I went to Venice, I had one clear goal: to see the architecture of Carlo Scarpa. His precision, his feeling for materials, the way he connects the old and the new, it always fascinated me. And his projects in Venice did not disappoint. They are sharp, balanced, and full of beautiful details. But what I didn’t expect was that another place would completely change my focus.

There’s something truly special about stepping into an artist’s studio. It’s not just a workspace — it’s a world filled with energy, ideas and raw creativity. You see the paint splatters, half-finished projects, sketchbooks, tools and personal rituals that don’t always make it into the final piece. And that’s what makes it so powerful.