Seaweed Calligraphy

53,7474 N 7,4926 E  – Seaweed embedded on the beach of a North Sea island after a heavy storm. Uprooted from the ocean, washed onto the shore, dried in the sun, largely covered by sand, transformed into calligraphy.

Seascapes

Same view, different day. Same sky, different mood. Same ocean, different fragrance. Same silence, different sound. Same universe, different consciousness.

Lo, 66 Minutes without a Breath

66 poems reflect a fearless journey to unconditional love, held within a deeply felt connection between 
the longing self and a nearly mythical figure: Lo.

Lo appears as projection, beloved, force of nature, and metaphysical center. Her being oscillates between ethereal distance and tender presence. Moons, planets, light phenomena, currents, quantum states, sonic fields, and elemental forces of nature resonate with inner states.

At the heart is the experience of a transcendent intimacy capabable of transformation. While time stretches, matter liquefies, essence pulses, unconditional love unfolds. The longing for the Other as a reflection of one’s own existence and the simultaneous awareness of the ungraspability of this wonder.

Launching soon.

Cut-up Poetry

The day I found myself creating cut-up poems, I was the last to know.

At that time, I had a very clear picture of myself. It just wasn’t me. I pictured an urban, cultivated lifestyle: mornings with coffee, warm croissants, and freshly inked newspapers spread across the breakfast table. But I had to realise that this is not how I move through the world.

When I sat down with the newspapers, I couldn’t find what I wanted to read. To be honest, I don’t even like coffee. I was looking for something that would lead me into the unknown. Something that would swallow me up and, at the same time, give birth to me. When I found words that sparked something in me, no longer reading line by line, I would jump to a sentence near the end, then back to the beginning, then to somewhere in the middle. There was an irresistible pull towards individual words. I stopped trying to understand and started listening.

The words became little text sculptures. Landscapes of language, almost like Japanese characters. They read like koans.

Suddenly I was eager to sit at the breakfast table. Not with coffee and croissants, but with tea and dark German bread. The universe had quietly altered my fantasy. Not by taking anything away, but by showing me who was actually sitting at the table.

There was one rule: I would not search for words. And I would not jump to another article simply because it suited me better. I had to stay with what was there. Again and again, I had to let go of what I was looking for and surrender to what was actually waiting. Some days I found nothing. Other days a single article revealed several poems at once. A lesson in humility. There is mystery in limitation. It strips away excess and purifies attention. Like tuning out noise until only one sound remains — the one that was always there.

The koans taught me that there are many ways to navigate life. Some map the territory through information. Others follow a thread into the unexplainable. Neither is better. This just happens to be mine.

Wabi-Sabi Asphalt

In traditional Japanese aesthetics, wabi-sabi (侘寂) is a world view centered on the acceptance of transience and imperfection. The aesthetic is described as one of beauty that is imperfect, impermanent, and incomplete.

Cape Town as a State of Heart

A collection of images and stories which came together as a different take on Cape Town, blurring the boundaries between urban topographics, social documentary, personal diary and conceptual art. This project was born over a far off ocean, it is a collaboration between Rike Michaelsen, Andrea Mönch and Hetty Zantman.

Thanks for stopping by. I’d love to hear from you.