Later, while studying communication design, I returned to the motif and transferred it into linoleum. The carving knife gave it a new voice: sharper, more graphic, more deliberate. A set of prints came out from the linocut — and from the prints, a stamp that eventually opened the path toward
a repeat pattern.

Once the repeat pattern was complete, its Art Nouveau qualities became unmistakable — the flowing curves, the mirrored rhythm, the sense of ornamented structure. It immediately made me think of a feature wall in
a modern yet nostalgic interior, where the pattern could bring both elegance and emotional warmth. I named the pattern Crimson Noveau.

My curiosity carried me one step further. I began to wonder how the pattern might live beyond walls — how it might move with a body, catch the light, or shift in character when translated into fabric. So I followed that question, too. The motif revealed itself as wearable art — softened by movement, reshaped by the body, becoming alive in a new way. Its curves entered into a dialogue with the model’s own form, echoing the sinuous lines of her silhouette.

Curiosity guided me again — this time into the digital realm. I began experimenting with the motif in design software, shifting hues, softening contrasts and exploring how colour alone could change its temperament.
A new palette emerged: warmer, brighter, more playful. By recolouring the pattern, I discovered another facet of its personality — one that felt lighter and more cheerful, yet still rooted in the hand-carved lines of the original print.

As I delved into further exploration, Crimson Noveau became Rose Noveau and began to suggest new spaces of its own. In its softened, peach-toned palette, it felt warmer — almost atmospheric — as if it wanted to inhabit
a room where calm, breath and movement meet. I imagined it on the walls of a women’s yoga studio: a gentle presence that holds the space rather than overwhelms it, offering quiet focus and emotional warmth.

From there, another question unfolded: how might this energy translate onto the body in motion? So I followed it. The same pattern, recoloured in these cosy, feminine tones, became a yoga set — a second skin that moves, stretches and breathes with the wearer. In this context, the motif felt intimate and grounding, inviting a sense of ease and inward attention. Rose Noveau revealed itself.

The exploration didn’t stop there. When I shifted the palette again — this time into softened greens — the pattern revealed another facet. This hue brought a sense of spacious calm that felt at home in a modern interior. As a feature wall, the motif became almost meditative, anchoring the room without dominating it — a quiet geometry that invites the eye to settle and the mind to soften. Jade Noveau came to life.

Curiosity nudged me one step further: how might this green variation live on the body? Once translated into a dress, the pattern revealed a different kind of expression. Its flowing lines softened into the drape of fabric, meeting the body’s natural rhythm with quiet grace. What had once been a wall became a garment — and with it, a new presence emerged: wearable, expressive, subtly alive.

This whole exploration began with a single motif — and a willingness to follow my own intuitive curiosity wherever it wanted to lead.

Perhaps you, too, remember a moment when something you made or noticed opened an unexpected path. If you ever feel called to share that story, I would love to hear from you — you’re welcome to write to me anytime.

Let what stirs within guide you gently,
Renata