It was a quiet Sunday morning, the streets still, the light soft and golden.
I was in Rome for a two-month sabbatical — trading my practical, scheduled life for Italian lessons and a city that moves at its own pace. Photography had always been part of me, but that morning, walking to the bakery with my camera in hand, something shifted.
I turned a corner and saw a little girl walking hand in hand with her father. A doll tucked under her arm. Her steps light, almost dancing. Neither of them was aware of being watched. They were simply there — in that moment, nowhere else.
I raised my camera. One frame. And somehow, I knew

For years, I'd been the one with the plan — the schedule, the checklist, everything figured out in advance. But that photograph cracked something open. The truest moments don't wait for a plan. They happen the second someone stops performing and just lives. Maybe that's my Dutch side talking — direct, unfussy, allergic to anything staged. I didn't want a perfect setup anymore. I wanted a real one.

That one frame changed the direction of my life. Not long after, I traded my corporate branding career for a camera, full time.

What I do now

I document real life — weddings, families, brands, food, everyday moments — with that same quiet attention. I don't direct much. I create the space where you forget I'm there, so what ends up in the photo is you, not a performance.

I believe that when you're truly present, you see a different version of yourself. Not posed. Real. That's the version I try to hand back to you.

Let's create something real together.