A New Space – on Letting Go and Beginning Again
A quiet first entry from the coast of Istria.
About solitude without loneliness, letting go of old digital forms, and returning to a slower way of seeing.
Perhaps something new begins here – or something long buried returns.
“I often think in images. But before they become images, they are moods.”
I'm sitting at one of my favorite cafés on the Istrian coast, a cappuccino in hand, my dog Devi dozing peacefully beneath the table in the shade. The sun is low, the sea shimmers in calming blue, the horizon stretches wide.
I'm alone – but not lonely. Maybe that's a distinction you only begin to understand after you've lived a few lives: relationships that flourished or failed, a profession full of daily encounters, a grown-up daughter with whom I share many memories of this place.
Today I’m writing the first entry in this journal.
A new page, a new form. The previous website, which served as my digital calling card for years, is now replaced.
I've moved from WordPress to Squarespace – simpler, leaner, more affordable. And closer to what I’m seeking now: space for what matters.
Why start over?
Because my way of seeing has changed.
Because the camera sometimes lay untouched for months.
Because I’ve stopped trying to show everything right away – and instead started to simply observe.
I still photograph – mostly with the same cameras, especially my beloved Fuji x100VI.
But something has shifted. Maybe it’s because of the sabbatical I’m currently on.
Maybe because of the years in between – long stretches of creative silence.
Maybe it’s a quiet desire to return: to seeing, to stillness, to becoming.
This site is not meant to be a portfolio. Not a “Best of.” Not an application to impress anyone.
It’s a space where images can breathe. And where words can arise.
Sometimes they’re fragments. Sometimes observations. Sometimes memories.
I’ve hesitated for a long time about starting a publicly visible blog.
I’ve been writing privately for years – mostly by hand, mostly quietly. I know how much it helps me.
The world is full of clever texts.
Of “How to shoot like a pro” guides.
Of technical expertise that often feels cold in its certainty.
This will be different.
Softer. Rawer. More personal.
Croatia, 06/2025