I think creatives are hoarders of beautiful things.
From my earliest memories, I’ve been collecting. As a child, it was postcards and magazine pages carefully torn out and stashed away. Beautiful stationery I couldn’t bear to write on because using it would mean losing it. Scraps of design that captured something I couldn’t quite articulate but desperately needed to keep.
Throughout my life, the medium has changed—from shoeboxes under my bed to meticulously organized Pinterest boards—but the impulse remains the same. There’s something in me that needs to collect beauty, to surround myself with it, to curate it.
I’m willing to bet you have the same instinct.
The False Starts
Over the years, I’ve actually started this project multiple times.
Once as an architectural entourage library. Then as a photography portfolio. Later as a collection of illustrations and abstract prints. Each time, I’d dive in with excitement and energy, only to hit the same walls.
Sometimes the enormity of it would overwhelm me—the sheer scale of creating and organizing hundreds of pieces of work felt impossible.
Other times, I’d feel trapped by my own categorization. By committing to “architectural assets,” was I abandoning the photographer in me? If I focused on illustration, what happened to all the abstract work I loved creating? Every box I put myself in felt like a rejection of some essential part of who I was.
Because the truth is, I’m all of those things.
The Pressure to Pick a Lane
Everyone says you need to specialize. Pick a lane. Focus. Become known for one thing.
And I understand the logic—there’s power in being the go-to person for a specific skill. But it’s hard to follow that advice when you love so many creative paths. When photography calls to you just as loudly as writing. When you’re equally passionate about illustration and typography and architecture and design.
Life is too short not to explore all of your passions.
The older I become, the more I realize that limiting yourself is a trap we set for ourselves. You’re only given one life—one precious, finite stretch of time to create, explore, and express everything you are. Why would you spend it suppressing parts of yourself to fit someone else’s idea of what a creative career should look like?
The Dawn of Possibility
And now, with AI tools expanding what’s possible for a solo creator, I’m no longer holding myself back.
I’m allowing myself the space—finally—to explore all of my passions without apology. To be the photographer and the illustrator and the designer and the writer. To follow my curiosity wherever it leads and capture what I find beautiful along the way.
And I’m pouring all of it into this library.
The Monnaco Collection is my way of doing what I’ve always done—collecting beautiful things—but with a new purpose. Instead of hoarding them in shoeboxes or private boards, I’m sharing them. Making them available to other creatives who might need exactly what I’ve been gathering all these years.
Maybe you’re working on a project that needs the perfect architectural element. Or you’re searching for that specific quality of light that will make your scene come alive. Or you need designs that capture a particular mood.
I’ve spent a lifetime creating for moments like these.
A Library of Beauty
This isn’t about building a business—though I hope it sustains itself. It’s not about becoming known for one specific thing—because I refuse to limit what I create.
This is about honoring that instinct I’ve had since childhood. The one that sees beauty and wants to capture it, collect it, and share it. The one that refuses to choose between passions because they’re all part of the same creative spirit.
It’s time to collect all the beautiful things and share them with the world.
Not because I’ve finally figured out how to pick a lane, but because I’ve finally given myself permission not to.
