PALMLOOP / A PERSONAL STORY
Come sit.
I’ll show you
something.
A little curiosity. A few favourite things.
And how they found their way here.
I’ve always needed
something in my hands.
A ring while thinking. A small mechanism beside my coffee. I’d turn it over, notice an edge, and pick it up again.
Eventually, friends began asking, “What’s that?”
And I found myself saying, “Here. Try it.”
I started paying attention
to what my hands noticed.
There’s a certain pleasure in an old door handle: the curve already knows where your fingers will go. I began keeping a notebook for things like that. A hinge. A rounded edge. A shape that changes as you walk past it.
I wasn’t collecting answers yet. Mostly, I was collecting questions. Why does this feel inviting? Why do I want to touch it again?
The notebook came before the shop.A FEW PAGES FROM MY NOTEBOOK
Some ideas start
with a little “what if?”
I draw, try things, and collect details I can’t quite forget. I look for that same spark in other makers’ work, too.
This little shop grew out of both.
The first version
rarely feels like the last.
On paper, a line can be anything.
In your hand, every little decision starts a conversation.
Start with something rough.
A simple model tells me where a finger wants to rest. I let it be unfinished long enough to learn from it.
Move the edge. Try again.
A curve becomes softer. A gap shifts. I compare, put it down, then return with fresh hands.
Leave room for the gesture.
Sometimes the best change is taking something away. The idea should feel clear without a long explanation.
A detail can be
the whole reason.
I find myself looking at the smallest things: where two surfaces meet, or how a line changes as I turn it towards the window.
A familiar shape.
An unexpected detail.
A playing card becomes something to explore. The layered edges and graphic lines invite a second look.
The same piece.
A different point of view.
Turn it towards the light. A quiet surface catches a bright edge, and the shape feels new again.
Those are the details I remember after the first impression.
PALM / CLOSE TO YOU · LOOP / BACK AGAINA NAME FOR THAT FEELING
In your palm.
On your mind.
The open curves in our mark remind me of a movement that hasn’t quite finished. One more turn. One more look.
A little room for curiosity.A place for
the things I kept
showing friends.
For a while, the collection lived in a notebook, on a shelf, and in messages to people I thought would enjoy it. Then I wanted those discoveries to have a place of their own.
That became PALMLOOP: part design journal, part little shop. My own explorations sit alongside pieces by other makers, connected by a shared affection for character, movement and small surprises.
I want visiting to feel like stopping by someone’s desk. Look around. Ask what something does. Stay with the piece that catches your eye.
Different objects.
The same little spark.
I don’t want every piece to look alike.
I want each one to give you a reason to look twice.
For curious hands.
A mechanism starts with a question: what happens when I give it a try?
For a little pause.
A sculptural form gives your desk a changing view, and your eyes somewhere to linger.
For your everyday.
A playful detail makes you smile each time you reach for your bag. That counts, too.
That’s what brings these pieces together.
There’s room here for your kind of curiosity.
THEN LIFE GETS HOLD OF IT
The best part?
When it becomes your thing.
The piece beside your notebook. The bright detail on your bag.
The small discovery you pass across a table.
“Go on.
Give it a turn.”
No expertise needed.
Just a little curiosity.
You don’t have to
turn every pause
into a task.
Sometimes I just want to watch a shape turn. There’s nothing to finish, nothing to collect points for. I can put it down whenever I like.
That’s the kind of play I’m drawn to: ordinary, personal, easy to return to. A small part of a day that belongs to you.
No grand reason required.“I saw this,
and thought of you.”
I like gifts that say, “I noticed.” A friend who can’t leave a mechanism alone. Someone with a bright detail on every bag. The person who gives every object on their desk a story.
A small thing can open a conversation. You pass it over, they turn it around, and suddenly you’re both looking at the same little detail.
That feeling — “you might enjoy this too” — is still the heart of this place.
From one curious person to another.
I’m still keeping
that notebook.
There are more sketches to try, more makers to discover, and plenty of things I haven’t figured out yet. I like that the story has room to grow.
If something here makes you pause, smile, or call a friend over for a closer look, then we’ve already found something in common.
See you around the next little loop.— The person behind PALMLOOP
Thanks for stopping by.
Maybe your next favourite
thing is a small one.
These are a few places I’d start.
A visual expression of the ideas behind PALMLOOP. Story scenes are concept imagery; product specifications and included items are described on each product page.