Early in the morning, when the city is still asleep, the river is perfectly still. I step in, and the cold water takes my breath away before I win it back. Then the water carries me.

Above me, the old town is waking up. Somewhere a window opens, a tram squeals around the corner, the bells ring. I let myself drift and watch the light arrange itself on the water. You learn quickly here that nothing can be forced. Whoever swims against the current gets tired. Whoever listens to it senses where it wants to go, and only has to help it along a little.

Later, in the studio, I often think back to those minutes. From a thought, a feeling, a first hunch, something takes shape together that begins to flow. My craft is to build the channel for it, so cleanly that you no longer notice the code. Sometimes it is like a calm lap in the pool, sometimes a game with the current, an experiment, a back and forth of ideas. And sometimes the river leads to a stretch with eddies and depths, and then we search together for the line that holds.

If you have a project in mind, write to me. I’m looking forward to it.