It wasn’t even a plan, really. Just this quiet idea that kept coming back — What if the things I make could bring people together? What if visuals could feel like invitations, not just designs? At first, Nynerdly Visuals was a space for me. To explore, experiment, sharpen my eye. To help people shape what they saw in their heads — and turn it into something others could feel. A studio, yes. But more than that: a way of working, thinking, caring. Because some people have ideas. Big ones. Honest ones. But they’re scared. Or they don’t know where to start. So I made it my thing to meet them there — in that fuzzy in-between where nothing’s real yet, but everything’s possible. To listen. To build. To shape things with intention. That’s what the studio is for.

But the other part of me still wanted to play. To test ideas. Say things. Feel things. To create something just because it meant something. So I followed that thread, too. And Nynerdly — the community — started to form. Prints. Textiles. Made in small quantities, shared with intention. Not mass-produced. Not for everyone. Each drop was a little signal. A quiet nod to the people who get it. And yeah — it’s limited on purpose. Not to exclude, but to protect the feeling. To keep it honest. To make space for people who see the world a little differently — and aren’t afraid to care. Because Nynerdly isn’t built for everyone. It’s built for us. For the ones who stay curious. Who look too closely. Who feel too deeply. Who need places that feel like home, even when they’re not sure where home is yet. That’s why there’s a studio. And that’s why there’s a space. Two sides of the same thing. One to build with others. One to remind them they’re not alone.

If you want to dive deeper into the vision behind the studio and the space it’s becoming, you can explore it all here

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