My father was an art photographer.
He didn’t just take photos—he showed me how to see the world through his eyes.He was also passionate about drawing and painting, often spending hours at his easel, surrounded by brushes, canvases, and a wide array of colorful paints. On top of that..he also wrote poetry, combining visual artistry with a love for language, making him a remarkably well-rounded creative talent.

He taught me how to develop photographs in the darkroom, the DOKA, where images slowly appeared like memories coming to life.

Furthermore, he took me to different museums. A lot of museums.
And to be honest… I didn’t like it at all.

But now? Now I love wandering through museums and immersing myself in the work of artists from different periods, cultures, and backgrounds.

Do you know what the funpart is? I didn’t realise I would pick up the same craft. Not as a photographer or painting art, but as a Filmmaker. A Indie Filmmaker.

It was something that had been in me from the start—ingrained from childhood, running through my veins.

And that is where my story began. And then.. there was a sad flipside.