Studio Note 02— On Discovering an Atlas

Summer 2026

Over the past weeks I’ve found myself looking the paintings from the series Internal Geographies in a different way.

For a long time I thought of them as individual landscapes, each complete in itself. Recently, though, they’ve started to feel less like separate places and more like fragments of the same imagined territory.

The idea of an atlas began almost by accident. At first it was simply a practical way to organize the paintings. But as I moved them around, compared them and made notes, I began noticing recurring forms that had appeared without conscious intention.

Palm trees. Lakes. Houses. Paths. Certain shapes seemed to return again and again, sometimes years apart.

Instead of thinking of these as individual compositional choices I started wondering whether they were landmarks that belonged to the same internal geography.

The atlas isn’t an attempt to invent a fictional world. It feels more like discovering one that has quietly been taking shape beneath the paintings all along.

Making notes has become part of that process. Each painting adds another fragment, another clue. Together they reveal relationships I couldn’t see while making them individually.

I’m still following where this leads. I don’t yet know the boundaries of this territory, or whether it even has any. But for the first time, the paintings seem to be speaking to one another in ways that weren’t obvious before.

Below are a few pages from the atlas as it currently exists.

Until the next note,

Jasper