Before We Get the Keys
On Vision, Ritual, and Imagining a Space Into Being
We are ten days away from receiving the keys to our first physical shop and studio space.
Ten days.
Since signing the lease, we haven’t been able to do much. The previous owners still have belongings stored inside, so we’ve intentionally kept our distance. We’ve even resisted walking by too often—wanting to give it space before we become intimately involved.
There are still many steps before it will be fully open and operational.
We have concepts. Rough sketches. Ideas about zones and lighting and layout. But we can’t do much until we are physically inside it—until we can sit in its bare bones and listen to what it wants to become.
The good thing is this: all of it fills us with excitement.
Admittedly, when we first discussed getting a retail and studio space, I was hesitant. I still don’t speak the language fluently. I don’t know many people here outside of family. Daunting is an understatement.
And yet—
Somehow, I’m able to look beyond those limiting thoughts and hold onto something simpler.
The vision.
The Vision
I picture drywall.
Funny enough, drywall is not common here—most walls are wallpapered concrete. But drywall allows for nails to be hammered in, removed, and rehung. It allows for rearrangement. Evolution.
I see sectioned exhibition zones.
Large murals on one side.
Punch needle installations on the other.
I see plywood shelves.
Peg boards.
A tufting frame with spools of yarn.
I see skeins organized by color.
Movable tables on casters so we can transform the layout on a whim.
Track lighting that shifts to spotlight different sections.
Paper lanterns.
Plants scattered throughout—bringing life to quiet corners.
The Sound
I brought a wireless speaker from the States that I haven’t been able to use yet in our apartment. (Who needs two speakers in such close quarters?)
That speaker used to live in our mini garage studio back in Portland.
I imagine music filling the space.
I love walking into small boutique shops and hearing a carefully curated playlist—not something corporate or co-sponsored or algorithmically approved.
My playlists give me energy. They make me want to build, to experiment, to move things around. When I feel the urge to dance while I’m working, I know I’ve hit the right frequency.
The Smell
We space clear more often than we physically clean.
For us, that means incense, sage, or palo santo. You will likely smell those in the studio often.
SooJ will have her own fragrance rituals, I’m sure. For me: vetiver, sandalwood, cedarwood.
I think often of Bali—how each morning, shopkeepers would light incense and offer flowers at small altars, blessing the day ahead.
Not appropriation—ritual.
I want to greet the space each morning. To awaken it.
Right now, Woori Woori Studio exists mostly in my imagination. Soon, it will ask something of us in return.
But with each passing day, that ethereal realm moves closer to something tangible.
We will take our time bringing it into the light.
We look forward to sharing it with you.
— Jeffrey