Eight years of calendars, countless stories and one fragrant kitchen
When I began thinking about the 2026 calendar I wanted something that felt truly mine.
Something weaving together what genuinely delights me – drawing, colour and cooking.
So between paper and brush the animals slowly snuck in. One after another, each with its own character, spices, flour and a dash of humour.
They took shape in the scent of freshly baked bread and the sound of children’s laughter from the kitchen.
I wanted the illustrations soft and warm – like the memory of a family table where there is always something happening: a bit of mess, a bit of chatting, a lot of warmth.
Each drawing reminded me that creating is not a goal but a space – the in‑between where most of the beautiful things happen.

Eight years later …
I made the first calendar in 2019.
This one now in progress is the eighth in a row.
If anyone could peek inside my head while I work they’d probably think I’m a bit batty. In truth it’s one of the most fun processes I know. Being a bit batty helps haha.
Each year it’s a small creative marathon — finding a theme that doesn’t repeat yet still feels like me.
Brainstorming for a new calendar is something between artistic meditation and a mild creative crisis.
That’s the charm – when out of the muddle something begins to breathe, with its own story and scent.

The calendar as a personal “escape room”
All my calendars are personal projects.
No one commissions them, no one demands them. I simply have to make them.
It’s my little escape room – a space where I’m completely free and also my own toughest judge.
There are no clients here – just me, brushes, paper and discipline.
I set deadlines and limits for myself and search for the balance between art and usefulness.
It’s not only work; it’s a practice in patience, humour and persistence.
And yes, the buyer only sees the finished piece.
They might think: “Pretty calendar.”
Maybe even: “Hmm, a bit pricey.”
But if you know the story – the thoughts, doubts and coffee in between – you see more than a product on a shelf; you see the slightly batty person needing to release excess energy into something.
Look closely and you see someone trying to say something to herself.
The world then accepts it or not – and that’s perfectly fine.

Beauty in the process
Creating a project like this year after year is sometimes tiring, often unpredictable and always a little magical.
There’s nothing lovelier than working with beautiful things – being surrounded by imagination, colours and people who believe in what you do. And that you’re not boring them yet. Well, honestly, probably boring some – haha.
But the fact I can gently get on someone’s nerves is a privilege I don’t take for granted.
So when you hold the new Zoki.art calendar this year, know you’re not holding just a piece of paper but a small slice of a story – all 12 chapters, a pinch of madness and a whole lot of heart. 💛

In the next post I’ll reveal more about the calendar itself — the animals, the fragrant little recipes and the behind‑the‑scenes of how they came to be.
Perhaps you’ll sense a familiar smell of home among them. Until then, may something lovely be baking in your kitchen.
And may life be a little messy – but always wholehearted.

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