Borneo Laboratory

19/08/2026

17/08/2026

Co-learning Session | Think & Tink, Kuching

Over the past few days, we gathered artists, researchers, students and practitioners from different places and disciplines to share work, stories, materials and ways of thinking.

A special thank you to everyone who travelled from near and far to be here with us — from Taiwan, New Zealand, Canada, and different parts of Malaysia. Thank you for making the journey, bringing your practices and experiences, and sharing your time so generously.

Across conversations around heritage, identity, soil, textiles, craft, food, memory and non-extractive practices, we found unexpected connections between very different practices.

For us, co-learning is not about having all the answers. It is about creating the time and space to listen, exchange, question and learn from one another.

Thank you for coming all this way and making this gathering what it was. We hope this is only the beginning of many more connections to come. 🌱

Photographs by Abe Lim

ArtAndEcology CulturalMemory NonExtractivePractice

06/08/2026

Open House at Think & Tink | 15 August 2026 (Saturday)

10:00am – 5:00pm

You are warmly invited to join us at Think & Tink and Borneo Laboratory Space, for an afternoon of sharing, conversations, and encounters with artists, designers, and practitioners from different places and disciplines.

As part of our Co-learning Session (14–16 August 2026) and prelude of Pontianak Biennale (September-October 2026), we are gathering a group of creative practitioners from Malaysia, Indonesia, Taiwan, Singapore, Canada and beyond to spend time together — exchanging ideas, sharing practices, and learning from one another through materials, food, craft, and ecological thinking.

On 15 August, the first floor of Think & Tink will become an open space for exchange. Artists and practitioners will share their ongoing research, creative processes, materials, and stories through informal presentations and conversations.

Come by anytime between 10:00am – 5:00pm to explore, listen, ask questions, and get to know one another.

There will be sharing around:

Biomaterials and regional material research

Textile practices and weaving traditions

Fermentation and food ecology

Craft, culture, and place-based knowledge

Artistic research and creative processes

This is not a conventional exhibition, but an open gathering — a moment to slow down, connect, and learn together.

We welcome anyone curious about art, design, craft, sustainability, materials, and the many ways we relate to our surroundings.

📍 Think & Tink, 1st Floor

🗓️ 15 August 2026 (Saturday)

⏰ 10:00am – 5:00pm

Come say hello. We look forward to meeting you.

05/08/2026

Have you ever thought agricultural waste could become leather?

We didn’t either, until we experienced it at Think & Tink Think & Tink.

After spending years working at Foster + Partners in London, Wendy Teo Wendy Teo Atelier returned to Sarawak with a vision: to create a platform where architecture, art, research, and local knowledge can come together in meaningful ways.

Today, through Wendy Teo Atelier and Borneo Laboratory Borneo Laboratory, she explores the intersection of architecture, material research, and cultural narratives rooted in Borneo.

One of the projects that caught our attention explored the potential of pineapple waste, transforming it into a plant-based leather, developed with Bioeconomy Corporation Bioeconomy Corporation and 4tify 4TIFY.CO. What we saw wasn’t just a finished product, but an ongoing process of experimentation, refinement, and discovery.

Beyond material experimentation, Think & Tink also hosts art residencies, bringing together people from different disciplines and backgrounds to exchange ideas, nurture conversations, and spark new ways of thinking.

Wendy is also passionate about publishing and documentation. In a digital age, she believes physical books still play an important role, creating an intimate experience that connects people to stories, ideas, and culture through touch.

When asked if she had any regrets, her answer was simple: not coming back to Sarawak sooner.

After years abroad, she realised there was still so much ancestral wisdom, local knowledge, and untapped potential waiting to be uncovered back home.

What if the future of innovation is closer to home than we think?

31/07/2026

𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐉𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝟑/𝟑
𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞

Our final stop brought us to Huailan Lodge, where we met a team that has spent years quietly cultivating something less visible, but just as essential as forests or livelihoods: relationships.

Unlike the previous sites, there was no single landscape to observe or project to study.

Instead, what we encountered was a long-term practice of staying.

Staying with communities.

Staying with uncertainty.

Staying with the slow work of trust-building.

Over time, Huailan Lodge has become more than a place of accommodation. It has become a bridge between visitors and surrounding communities, shaped not by short-term engagement, but by continuity.

What stood out most was how unglamorous this work is.

There are no quick outcomes.

No immediate transformations.

Only years of showing up, listening, and learning how to work alongside others without imposing direction.

In this way, their approach quietly challenged many assumptions we often bring into regenerative work.

That impact must be visible.

That change must be fast.

That success must be measurable in the short term.

Here, we were reminded that some of the most important conditions for regeneration are not technical, but relational.

Trust.

Consistency.

Humility.

And the willingness to remain present long enough for something meaningful to emerge.

As we reflected on the past three days, a pattern began to form.

At KaoMai Estate, we questioned the principles.

In Mae Sa Noi, we saw those principles embodied in a regenerating forest.

At Huailan Lodge, we understood the human relationships that make such regeneration possible in the first place.

Together, these experiences revealed something simple, but profound.

Regeneration is not a framework to be applied.

It is a set of conditions to be nurtured.

And perhaps the most important of these conditions is time.

Time for forests to return.

Time for communities to adapt.

Time for relationships to deepen.

We leave Chiang Mai with no final answers.

Only a deeper appreciation for the slow, interconnected work of regeneration in practice.

And a reminder that the most meaningful change often begins not with action, but with presence.

30/07/2026

𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐉𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝟐/𝟑
𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐮𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞

The second day of our fellowship took us beyond frameworks and into the living landscape of Mae Sa Noi, where the Hmong community has been restoring a once-degraded mountain forest for over three decades, in collaboration with Chiang Mai University’s Forest Restoration Research Unit FORRU.

What we encountered was not a project in progress, but a forest already in motion.

Over the past 30 years, around 3,000 rai of degraded land has gradually returned to life.

Standing there, it was difficult to imagine that much of what we saw had been almost barren within a single generation.

What struck us most was how intentional the beginning of restoration had been.

Rather than attempting to replant entire ecosystems, the community first introduced carefully selected native “framework species” — trees that help create the conditions for other life to return.

Once the canopy began to form, something remarkable happened.

Birds returned. Wildlife followed. Seeds were carried in from surrounding areas.

And slowly, regeneration shifted from human intervention to natural succession.

The role of people changed too.

From planters of trees, they became protectors of what was emerging.

Today, one of the community’s most important responsibilities is not planting, but preventing forest fires.

It was a quiet but powerful reminder that regeneration is not always about doing more.

Sometimes, it is about recognising when nature is ready to continue the work itself.

The forest has also restored something less visible, but equally essential: water.

Streams that had once disappeared now flow again, allowing the village to reconnect with a source of life that had been lost.

Here, ecological restoration and community wellbeing are inseparable.

Yet regeneration does not end with the return of trees or water.

As the forest recovered, new questions emerged.

How can livelihoods grow without repeating cycles of extraction?

How can agriculture move away from burning and chemical dependence?

How can tourism support the landscape without overwhelming it?

These questions echoed the conversations we had the day before.

Reminding us that regeneration is never only ecological.

It is always cultural, economic and relational at the same time.

What we witnessed in Mae Sa Noi was not a finished story.

It was a living system still learning how to sustain itself.

And perhaps that is what regeneration truly looks like.

Not control, but collaboration.

Not completion, but continuity.

29/07/2026

𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐉𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 (𝟏/𝟑)
𝐑𝐞𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬
From 20–22 July, we gathered in Chiang Mai for the Regenerative Fellowship, graciously hosted by our Thai partner, Local Alike • Local Travel 🇹🇭. Local Aliker | Live a meaningful trip

Bringing together practitioners from Thailand, Malaysia, Japan, Colombia, Taiwan, Laos and Hungary, the fellowship created a space for us to exchange experiences, challenge assumptions and reflect on what regenerative practice might mean across different cultural, ecological and social contexts.

Our journey began at KaoMai Estate.

Rather than introducing a new framework, we revisited seven regenerative principles that had emerged through years of collective practice. Yet the purpose was never to validate them.

Instead, we were invited to question them.

Are these principles practical?

Are they inclusive?

Do they reflect the realities of the communities we work alongside?

What I appreciated most was the way these conversations unfolded. We moved between small groups, each contributing perspectives shaped by different places, disciplines and lived experiences. Every comment built upon those that came before, allowing the principles to evolve through dialogue rather than debate.

One simple guideline shaped the entire workshop.

Every critique had to be accompanied by a constructive proposal.

It reminded us that regeneration is not about pointing out what is missing. It is about taking collective responsibility for imagining what could work better.

Another conversation that stayed with us was the role of tourism.

Rather than seeing tourism as an end in itself, we explored it as one possible platform for wider community development. Tourism becomes meaningful when it supports local livelihoods, strengthens cultural continuity, restores ecological relationships and creates value that remains within the community long after visitors have left.

As we listened to one another, it became increasingly clear that regenerative practice cannot be reduced to a checklist or universal methodology. Every landscape, every community and every cultural context asks different questions, and our principles must remain flexible enough to respond to those differences.

We left the workshop not with seven definitive answers, but with seven principles that had become more open, more grounded and more responsive to the realities of practice.

Perhaps regenerative thinking is never about finding the perfect framework.

Perhaps it is about cultivating a framework that continues to evolve through dialogue, shared experience and the willingness to keep learning together.

This was only the beginning of our journey. Over the following days, we would witness these conversations come to life through communities that have spent decades restoring forests, nurturing relationships and reimagining what regeneration can look like in practice.

29/07/2026

How could we learn from the laboratory in the city, especially the one has been evolving its role for decades?

Meeting Marieke, one of the driving forces behind Viernulvier, has been a profound experience in understanding how artivism can take shape in the public realm through citizen participation.

A creative practitioner herself, Marieke draws, curates, and brings people together through her work at viernulvier. During our time together in Ghent, she generously introduced us to the beautiful Stadsatelier space in the city centre and gifted us a publication documenting more than a decade of their work, a body of practice we found deeply inspiring.

Even the name Stadsatelier is meaningful. It literally translates as “the city’s atelier” or “the city’s laboratory” - a place where citizens, artists, and communities collectively imagine, test, and shape the future of the city.

The book now can be browse in our library at Think & Tink

05/07/2026

What can we learn from communities that have been practising regeneration for years?

As part of Borneo Laboratory's ongoing research into regenerative cultural practices, we recently visited Cascoland in Amsterdam.

For more than fifteen years, Cascoland has been working at the intersection of art, ecology, food systems and community development. Rather than beginning with a fixed masterplan, they start with observation. They spend time understanding a neighbourhood, listening to its rhythms, recognising existing relationships and responding to what is already present.

Throughout the visit, we saw how seemingly independent initiatives are deeply interconnected.

Community kitchens become spaces for cultural exchange.

Surplus food is transformed into preserves and shared meals.

Cooking oil becomes soap and candles.

Bread waste generates methane for baking.

Gardens become classrooms, gathering spaces and places of care.

Entrepreneurship, food, ecology and public space are not treated as separate projects, but as parts of one living ecosystem.

What resonated most with us was that regeneration was never presented as a finished solution. It was an ongoing practice of listening, experimenting and adapting alongside the people who live there.

Many of the projects emerged from careful observation rather than predetermined plans. The team often describes their process as responding to what a place reveals over time, allowing unexpected opportunities to shape the work instead of forcing outcomes.

For Borneo Laboratory, this visit forms part of a broader journey of learning from communities around the world that are cultivating place-based, regenerative approaches to culture and everyday life. Rather than replicating these models elsewhere, we are interested in understanding the principles behind them, and asking how they might inform our own work and collaborations in Borneo.

20/03/2026

4–6 March, Kuching. At .kch
For three days, we gathered across disciplines, places, and ways of knowing. Walking, listening, mapping, and questioning what it means to work with rather than on.

This workshop was not a conclusion, but a beginning.
A space where relationships were seeded, where stories surfaced, and where practices of reciprocity started to take form.

To everyone who joined us, thank you for your presence, your openness, and your willingness to stay with complexity.

The conversation continues.
Next stop: Chiang Mai.

Video edited by