Liz Nobels spends their workdays at a marketing agency in Atlanta, building campaigns and design systems for various brands. While their professional life is grounded in the structured world of commercial graphic design, Liz has been making things since they were a kid—drawing cartoons, painting, and collecting rocks to study their textures.
A high school teacher first suggested graphic design as a career path, which eventually led Liz to the Savannah College of Art and Design. But after years of working in an agency setting where design is tied to deadlines and clients, Liz came to Azule looking for something different: the space to step outside of the productive cycle and remember what it feels like to make art without an agenda.
The environment at Azule provided the perfect backdrop for that recalibration. Liz spent time observing the details of the house—the mosaics, the stained glass, and the way the light shifts throughout the day. These quiet moments encouraged presence over urgency, allowing Liz to follow their curiosity wherever it led.
Without a strict project list, Liz’s time became a mix of different creative experiments. They spent hours spinning in the dance studio, playing the piano, and arranging collages from materials they had gathered over time. They also found themselves writing outdoors, an unfamiliar medium that surprisingly became a key to unlocking other ideas.
Conversations with Camille during the residency also helped shift Liz’s perspective. Camille’s belief that creative work is never really finished, only evolving, gave Liz permission to let go of the pressure to be perfect. This openness allowed their various activities—writing, collage, and music—to bleed into and inform one another.
By the end of the residency, these explorations started to take the form of a series of personal poetry zines. For Liz, the experience wasn’t about finishing a specific product; it was about finding their way back to a creative practice rooted in play and attention. At Azule, Liz didn’t just come to make something—they came to remember how to be an artist again.