The memory of summer turns exceptionally abstract as dense packs of gray clouds lay down a soothing gloom over Deurne’s Tweemontstraat. A few houses ahead of us, a sizzling little bomblet is thrown out of a hastily closing door: its loud bang echoes between the rows of houses. Inside, children can be seen hiding behind the windows on all fours, curiously observing the effects of their prank. Further down the road, Maika Garnica stands waving at us through the drizzling mist. Her new atelier houses in an industrial building, renovated and managed by Studio Start and home to a dozen young artists. With the complex neighbouring the base of some Polish construction workers as well as a good old-fashioned “drinks center”, she usually finds herself in good company here. Yet on this very last Sunday of the year, the site lies abandoned. Inside, an old, dysfunctional kitchen is the sole reminiscent of times passed. Nowadays, the room functions as Maika’s creative headquarters, giving shelter to the outlandish clay instruments she has created throughout recent years, many of which are stripped of their bubble wrap protection during our conversation. More so than mere lifeless aesthetic objects, they appear as stages within an ongoing research into matter, vibration and community.