Note · 18 September 2026
[de]41/26Studio
The Gaps Are the Problem.
Most digital work does not happen inside the programs. It happens in between.
Imagine a business gets a new phone number. The number itself is set up in a minute. After that come weeks in which yet another place keeps turning up where the old one was still listed. In the letterhead. In the Google profile. In a PDF that has been sent to new clients for years. On the sign by the door.
None of these places was hard to change. You just had to find them. And remember them.
Where the time really goes
When I talk to businesses about their website, the conversation is usually about the website. How it looks, how fast it is, whether Google finds it. All of that matters. But when I ask what costs time in everyday work, I hear something different.
The website is up to date, the flyer is not. The agency has the logo file, but who still remembers that? The colleague who always did the Instagram posts has left, and with her the knowledge of which pictures to use and which not.
The individual programs work. The problem is the gaps between them.
Why it is so hard to notice
Gaps rarely cost a lot of time at once. They cost ten minutes here, a question there, a call to the service provider who has no time until next week. None of it shows up on an invoice. It simply feels like “a lot to do”.
And it has a second consequence that you only notice late: at some point there are three versions of the same information. Three sets of opening hours. Two spellings of the company name. A logo in a colour that officially no longer exists.
What I made of it
In my own studio it was just the same. As a photographer, designer, and artist I work on very different things, and at some point I felt I was spending more time gathering things together than doing the actual work.
So I began to build the connections myself. Not one big program that does everything. More of an order: one place that holds what is true. And tools that read from there instead of asking again every time.
That became Kenala. At its centre sits the DNA of a business: who you are, how you speak, how you look, and what must always be right. Each piece of information notes everywhere it appears.


When the phone number then changes, it is changed in one place. And Kenala knows which other places need to follow. The website gets a preview. The flyer gets a note. You see everything before anything goes out.
What changes as a result
Not that everything suddenly happens by itself. I do not want that anyway. But the searching disappears. The remembering disappears. The three versions disappear.
What remains is the decision. And that should be yours in any case.
How I set up websites today: Websites with Kenala →