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How far are you going to cycle today?
After long conversations, a short and rainless night of sleep on the floor of the town halls cyclist sanctuary, we sit around the breakfast table and ultimately have to ask each other the question. “How far are you going to cycle today?” Arriving out of all directions at different speed and with different stories before…
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Am I the only one doing this?
After I had pushed myself to my limits yesterday only to get saved by the bakery woman and her friend. Today, I decided was going to be a good day. Leaving town with a sandwich and some cookies, I was looking forward to my coffee after a gentle 15km through the sleepy mornings. Green and…
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Leaving town by bike.
The first day of another cycling adventure. Who would have thought? As I am pedalling through a fresh overcast Thursday morning in May, my thoughts are passing by, like all these buildings that used to weigh heavy on my sense of freedom. Now I am passing them, on my way out of town. Left, right,…
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1 week and 1 day.
1 week and 1 day, sometimes thats all it takes for a crazy idea to become tangible reality. As I cycle around my favourite little hill side lake, it comes up again. That feeling, free and wide the world in front of me, cycling feels more like flying. “Why can’t I keep pedalling like that…
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Clothes and Stories, empty spaces to fill.
Finding joy in creating stories and bringing them to life through clothing, events, and the designing of spaces… …the search for spaces to fill with contemporary romance remains ongoing.
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What do you wear out hunting?
What do you wear out hunting? How do you match romantic expectations with every days fashion? – the story about the creation of a hand stitched cashmere hunting jacket.
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Cake for breakfast in Albania.
“First time in Albania?” the border guard asks me, while he looks at my passport. “Yes.” I answer. After he figured out my name and tipped a few things in his computer he hands me back my document and asks: “Last time?” “No!” I say, smile and walk away.
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Questioning my Goldfish brain. (thoughts after cycling 5’052 kilometres)
Did I arrive? Where did I intend to go then? After cycling 5’052 kilometres to the south of Turkey I find myself in a sudden moment of calmness. I can’t help but wonder if I arrived at my destination. But I have never had one. If there is no destination how do you know, when…
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One last ride through the Taurus mountains in Turkey. (the end)
Morning prayer is waking us up, before dawn. I sit up in the tent and look around. The fire brigade behind us, who we had asked last night in the dark, if we could camp in their yard. Of course they had accepted and invited us for tea, which we had to refuse, couldn’t we…
kesityu. 