Shifting Grounds: A Leap Beyond the Void

land/scape, 2022, Analog photography, Monika Angelevska

“First Step”

A void, a black hole—one step, then a leap follows.

Not into a singular place, but into an idea—a thread of thought, ready to be explored. This blog is my

personal leap, much like Yves Klein’s Leap into the Void—a moment suspended in time, stepping beyond

the familiar, embracing the now and the thirst to see and learn more. Learn to view the negative space,

the space between feelings, the space in our society where man-made boundaries blur, and the

architecture of words begins to take shape.

We rarely talk about the feeling of architecture. The quiet hum of a breeze brushing against the window

glaze, carrying the scent of a distant (perhaps wild) garden. The dance of dust specks—swirling,

suspended in a ray of sunlight as they settle on a wooden floor. The earth beneath, shifting, settling, grounding the space. Architecture isn’t merely form—it’s a pulse, a presence, a living entity that hums in rhythm with the land. And design is more than a sketch, more than a thought. It is a feeling, an emotion we often overlook.

Leap into the Void (1960). Artistic action by Yves Klein (French). Photographed by Harry Shunk (German). Photographed by János (Jean) Kender (Hungarian)

When Klein leapt into his void, he wasn’t just leaving the ground. He was embracing the space

between—the potential that exists in every moment of uncertainty. This is the spirit I hope to capture

here—a space where design and nature aren’t separate, but partners in the same dance. Where the

house and the forest blend, where architecture is alive, interconnected, and ever-changing.

Architecture, like a tree, grows slowly and patiently from the roots. It does not impose itself, but invites a dialogue between the earth, the people, and the sky above.

Tatiana Bilbao: Architecture and the Environment (2010)

The ground beneath us is shifting, and we must begin to shift our narrative as well. We live in a very

uncertain and systematically forgetful world — we should not ignore this. We are pulling ourselves

further from nature; we’re overbuilding, overusing and destroying what little green space is left. It’s

time to stop, acknowledge the nature that nurtured us for so long — and how we’ve drifted from it. We

need to go back, understand where we came from and recover what was lost.

So, let’s take a leap — where the void isn’t an absence, but an invitation: To explore. To question. To

create something different.

And so, I take my first step.

Come along.