Life doesn’t usually move in straight lines.

Detail of one of the many “Life Lines” prints

Nothing in life follows a straight line. The paths we imagine—neatly drawn, clearly defined—rarely unfold the way we expect. They twist. They break. They disappear for a while, only to reappear somewhere else, looking nothing like before. Life Lines, a raw and personal project by @famiglia_vienna, captures this tension—between control and chaos, intention and accident.

Exhibition view "Life Lines" by @famiglia_vienna

Each print begins with carved linoleum blocks, covered with color and pressed layer by layer onto paper. But even with steady hands and repeated technique, the results are never the same. Blank spots show up. Color bleeds into corners it shouldn’t. Lines don’t always meet. And that’s the point. The process, like life, resists perfection. You can plan, but you can’t predict. But don’t get me wrong: This isn’t some celebration of chaos or imperfection — it’s more just a quiet acceptance.

Carved Linoleum blocks are the base for printing

There’s something honest in that. Something uncomfortable, too. Because unlike polished exhibitions, Life Lines doesn’t pretend to be about clarity or inspiration. It’s about sitting with the mess of it all. The doubt. The small failures. The near misses. And realizing that these are not distractions from the story—they are the story.

This project isn’t made for profit. All proceeds, after covering material costs, go to Wiener Frauenhäuser (@wienerfrauenhaeuser), supporting women navigating their own difficult, uncertain paths. Because sometimes, the best we can do is turn what we’ve got—flawed, broken, unfinished—into something that might help someone else keep going.