The sculpture cracked in the fire. Two fragments held their shape. What’s left tells its own story.

A fragile piece that held together—just enough. What cracked on the surface stayed whole inside.

Made through failure, pushed past its limits. A sculpture shaped by trial, and by what held through it.

First painted during a period of disconnection. Over time, it’s become something quieter—a kind of self-portrait.

My final painting commission. A sibling portrait—and a quiet end to a long chapter.

An interview with De Kleine K about my recent ceramic work. Written in Dutch by Elisabeth Eyl.

A moment between endings and beginnings. A dried lotus pod, a hand, and the question of which direction to take next.

A self-portrait from a time before self-awareness—eyes shut, wounds visible. It marks the moment I learned to see.

A portrait of my friend Corine, left unfinished. She always searched for light. This is how I remember her.

Two final portraits—one of my husband, one of myself. A quiet attempt to paint the moment before thought.