“Different chapter, different energy, different me.”
Discovering new work from Maria Knofe is always such a pleasure. There is something about everything she creates that reminds us she is an artist at heart. Whether through photography, painting, or simply the way she sees the world, there is always something deeply personal in her work.
This time, together with photographer and friend Anna Lisa Wagner, she takes us into a very special place: a tiny bungalow that became her creative playground, and her home for three years. What began as a fresh start after a difficult chapter turned into a space filled with art, friendships, and new beginnings. Before saying goodbye, the two captured one last series of photographs there. Maria shares the story in her own words.
“Three years ago, I moved into a tiny bungalow.
I had just left a relationship that had become increasingly toxic, and the whole process of leaving was a bit of a blur. There was a lot of fear and a lot to process, but somehow, when you really need to get yourself out of a situation, you find a strength you didn’t know you had. I found a place, packed up what I could, and went to the bungalow in a different part of town.
The bungalow was small, but it was beautiful. It had this very L.A. feeling to it — roses outside, a lake nearby, tiny paths between the houses, and just enough space to make it feel like my own little world.
Once I had settled in, my friend Anna came over and, since we’re both models and photographers, naturally, we decided to take pictures on film. It felt cathartic to be able to create something beautiful with a wonderful human in my very own little sanctuary.
And that little bungalow became one of the most creative places I’ve ever lived.
I created so many beautiful things there. I turned the house into a studio by dragging my bed into the kitchen. I made self-portraits everywhere. I painted large-scale paintings on the floor, often right next to my bed, and then had to carefully hop over them so I wouldn’t step into wet paint. I experimented with film soup, made Polaroid work, wrote, decorated, rearranged, and constantly found new ways to turn whatever corner I had into a little creative universe.
I had friends over. I had my family there. I threw Christmas parties. I hosted full moon ceremonies outside. I got to know my neighbors and built a little community around myself. Somehow, despite the size of the place, my life inside it became anything but small.
“Somehow, despite the size of the place, my life inside it became anything but small.”
A lot of my creative life happened there, too. And eventually, some of those ideas grew into something bigger.
Earlier this year, Anna and I started building Mirage Club, our creative project and little universe of our own. The bungalow ended up being part of that process, too. We shot some of our promo work there, used a few of my large-scale paintings in the images, made beautiful Polaroid emulsion lifts that ended up sitting on the shelves, and generally continued doing what we had already been doing for years: making things, experimenting, and turning whatever space we had into something magical.
It still makes me laugh a little when I think about how much happened inside those few rooms.
Three years after moving in, I started packing everything up.
By then, my life had simply gotten bigger than the bungalow. I had more things, more people, more projects, more love and space I wanted to create in. But I didn’t want to leave without properly saying goodbye. So before packing up the bungalow, Anna came over one last time and we photographed the bungalow again.
The same house, three years later. Different chapter, different energy, different me.
So this is my little goodbye to it.
Not a sad one. More like a thank you.
Thank you for being my sanctuary, thank you for the roses, the lake, the tiny walkways, the questionable amount of furniture I managed to fit into you, the wet paintings on the floor, the film soup, the parties, the moonlight, the friends, the photographs, and all the versions of myself that got to exist inside those walls.”
Maria Kn also contributed to our sold out C-Heads Print Issue Vol. 38, The Art of Slowing Down — available anytime as a digital issue. A chance to revisit the full story. ♥
Digital issue — available here.
