Many of my geometric pieces start in the simplest way possible: paper, markers, rulers, and a handful of circle templates scattered across my desk. No grand plan, no complicated concept—just lines, curves, and shapes beginning to interact with one another.

What I enjoy most about this process is the balance between structure and spontaneity. The tools create order—perfect arcs, measured angles, repeating circles—but the way those elements intersect is often completely intuitive. I draw a line, then another curve, then suddenly a pattern begins to appear that wasn’t planned at all. Once the drawing feels interesting, the second stage begins: translating that loose sketch into a digital composition.

The Hybrid Process: Hand First, Digital Second

Each of these pieces began as a marker drawing on paper. Using rulers, protractors, and circle templates gives the lines a clean geometric foundation, but the imperfections of hand drawing add a bit of organic movement. After the sketch is finished, I trace and refine it digitally—usually as vector artwork in Adobe Illustrator on the iPad. That stage lets me experiment freely with color, spacing, and balance while preserving the original structure of the drawing. This hybrid process is one of my favorite ways to work because it combines two very different energies:

• the spontaneity of hand drawing
• the precision of digital design

The result is artwork that feels both structured and alive.

Letting the Shapes Reveal Themselves

One of the most interesting aspects of these drawings is how the forms emerge naturally as the lines intersect. In some pieces, overlapping circles create unexpected shapes that almost resemble leaves or petals. In others, arcs sweep across the page like orbital paths or flowing ribbons of motion. Occasionally a single bold element becomes the anchor for the entire composition—like the red circular form that interrupts a field of intersecting curves.

Because I start without a rigid plan, the drawing often feels like a conversation between the tools and the page. A line suggests another line. A curve invites a circle. The composition slowly organizes itself through repetition and balance.

Exploring Color and Motion

Once the drawing is digitized, color becomes the next playground. Some pieces lean into bold contrasts—deep greens, bright oranges, and sharp lines that cut across the composition. Others use softer palettes that create a calmer, almost meditative rhythm where the motion of the lines becomes the main focus.

In one of the designs, a strong purple tone anchors the entire piece, creating a unified visual field where overlapping curves form organic shapes. In another, layered arcs drift across the surface in muted earth tones, emphasizing movement rather than symmetry.

The digital stage allows these variations to happen quickly. A simple sketch can evolve into multiple color explorations before the final version emerges.

Finding Rhythm in Repetition

Geometric abstraction has always fascinated me because simple shapes can produce surprisingly complex visual rhythms. A few circles, arcs, and lines repeated across a surface can start to feel almost musical.

That rhythmic quality is what I try to preserve in these pieces. Even though they are minimal in structure, the intersections and overlaps create patterns that guide the eye through the composition.

• Some viewers see planets and orbital paths.
• Others see leaves, petals, or flowing fabric.
• And sometimes they’re simply lines enjoying their own geometry.

A Series That Continues to Grow

These drawings are part of an ongoing exploration of geometric abstraction. The series continues to evolve as I experiment with new combinations of circles, arcs, and intersecting lines.

What began as simple marker sketches has become a growing body of work that blends hand drawing with digital refinement—an approach that keeps the process playful while still producing clean, modern designs.

It’s a reminder that even the most minimal marks on paper can lead to surprisingly complex visual ideas. Sometimes all it takes is a ruler, a circle template, and the willingness to see where the lines decide to go.

Every once in a while, I make something that feels like it has absolutely no interest in following rules. This is one of those pieces. Floppy Flowers started as a simple geometric exploration—circles, curves, repeated shapes, a color palette that felt balanced and intentional. But somewhere along the way, it stopped behaving like a clean, structured design and started leaning into something a little… weirder. The forms began to feel soft. Flexible. Almost alive. Not flowers exactly—but definitely flower-adjacent.

Letting Motion Take Over

What really pushed this piece into its own strange category was turning it into a video. Once the shapes started moving, everything changed. Instead of sitting neatly in place, the forms began to:

• bend like they were made of rubber
• wobble slightly off rhythm
• droop and sway in ways that feel just a little bit wrong

And that’s where it got interesting. Because the moment you add motion to simple shapes, they stop being static design elements and start feeling like characters. Not literal characters—but something with presence. Something with attitude.

Why I Keep Coming Back to This Style

There’s something really satisfying about starting with precise geometry and then letting it fall apart—just a little. Not completely chaotic. Not random. Just enough movement and distortion to make the piece feel alive instead of static. That tension is what keeps pulling me back to this kind of work:

• structured but not stiff
• playful but not careless
• abstract but still suggestive of something familiar

In this case… flowers that absolutely refuse to act like flowers.

Watch It Come to Life

This piece was designed to move, so the still image only tells part of the story. You can see the full animated version on Pinterest. That version is where the personality really shows up—the wobble, the sway, the quiet refusal to sit still and behave.