My uncle and aunt, who passed away a few years ago at a respectable age, left behind a collection of artworks they had created over the years. Some of the works were sold, others stolen by a dubious dealer in Spain, and still others given away to family. The last 100 paintings, drawings, etchings, and textile works ended up with me because no one else wanted or could house them. These works were just like my uncle and aunt: whimsical, outspoken, and sometimes difficult to face head-on.

For two years, these artworks gathered dust in my studio. We opened the doors, spread the works around the space, placed them against the windows, and laid out loose drawings, etchings, and paintings on the table. We put up 'Free paintings' signs on the windows, and after a few weeks, everything was gone.

One of the most unexpected visitors was a neighbour who came in with a cry, repeatedly exclaiming how beautiful the colours were. These works made her day, brought sparkle to her life. She talked about her travels, her mother, the art academy in Arnhem, and changes in the neighbourhood. When she heard that the works were free, her mouth fell open. I asked her if she would like to choose a painting. She continued to talk about the beauty of the works and the colours. She went on about her first visit to Amsterdam, her father, and how convenient the 24/7 pharmacy at Amsterdam Central is. As she was leaving, I asked her again if she might want to take a small drawing. She assured me she would and promised to visit again soon.

All the artworks have found a new home, with friends, neighbours, passing Amsterdammers, a package delivery person, tourists, and someone who was mostly interested in the frame the painting was in.

What surprised me the most is that although the works can be difficult to handle or place, they ultimately find their way to people who see beauty and meaning in them. It shows how generosity, making and sharing art can connect people by simply opening the door and giving something away.

With thanks to Josef (Joop) Marie Mader and Etty Mader-Stomps, thanks to Mascha and my studio mates for speaking with the people who walked in.

Sketch #27 invisibility is a godsend

We all want to be seen while at the same time invisibility is a godsend. As a teenager, I spent a lot of time on public transport, which is probably where my love for people-watching originated. Endlessly peering and musing at others. After a while, it almost seems like you know them personally instead of just recognising them. What I never wondered then is what I myself look like when I look inward.

From now on when you hear the alarm at the first Monday of the month at noon I will publish a new sketch letter. It will be new work, unpublished and made over the course of that month.

Sketch Letter #26 Ups and Frowns

It is not so much a matter of age, we al have frowns even our youngest offspring. We collected loads of frowns and came to the conclusion that there are different frowns categories. After a while they appear to be roads, highways, ally's, trails, crossroads, junctions, but never a dead end street.

This months Sketch I worked on together with photographer Rosalie van der Does. Check out her work. Art with a lot of humor and anthropology www.rosalievanderdoes.nl

About the Sketches

Musicians practice regularly, athletes train, inventors experiment. These photographic sketches I work on monthly are a combination of those three. It good and fun to stay productive and actively keep on searching, working intuitively, practice and playing with visual storytelling. By doing so I want to inspire you and myself, but i also need you and the sirens at the beginning of each month as the deadline.

Please subscribe and feel free to view the monthly sketch, or reply to these letters with questions, comments and suggestions.

Welcome to the fourth Sketch Letter! Over the course of a full year I will send out a Sketch Letter every Friday containing a new photographic sketch. It wil be hot from the press, unpublished and made over the course of that very week. 

Sketch # 04 Green Fortress. Funny creatures we are, Everybody wants a green fortress, but nobody a wall. I see a somtimes even desperate urge to ban the eye of the outside observer. Some of them look pretty grim. Others do make me smile, it is a moving thought to realize how much effort and even love has been spent in in those peculair bulwarks.

Most people tend to touch each other, after I ask them to take a moment for a photo. It makes me wonder about how well we know the other, or even ourself. We have this idea about how we see ourselves and yet we may be surprised or even embarrassed to see what we look like in a picture. What do we mutually allow our partner to see of us. What do we rather hide? What are we proud of? Even when you don't see the other, they are still there. It somehow gives us four eyes.

While chasing clouds during the day, makes you dream at night

After 24 hours without sleep I read a bedtime story to Winnie. About halfway the page she pokes me in the side and asked me indignanty what this last part with the police chase had to do with the story. I realise my dream took over, our bed is a car and we can go anywhere.

A change in the weather is sufficient to behave differently. In this lightness of our experience it feels like we have nothing to fear just gravity.

Somedays it feels like I know everything, but most of the time I only know the things I see. Until I start thinking about them. 

Special thanks to: Poike Stomps, Lars kroon, Femke Dee, Marianne Beuken, Tamar van Haastrecht en Renda van der Burg

I am here, with a mirror, in one of the dimensions of time. I am not sure which one anymore. They appear to mingle.
When I look down at the live webcam image of my telephone the sun is there, but when i look up it's cloudy. 
A police officer on a motorcycle stops and politely asks me the get off the street. Back on the sidewalk I look down at my screen again to see him and i talk.

Ps my mother took screenshots from live webcams in and around Amsterdam when I signaled with a mirror to her. Suddenly I realise Trump must have had a mother to. 

Thanks to Tamar van Haastrecht. Renda Van der Burg, Poike Stomps, Marianne beuken en Femke Dee

Most of the times I am caught by surprise catching the wind my face. I know my city by now and at some corners i long for the moment the wind hits me.

34 Encounters with 9471 steps crossing the the city. Lots of laughs, one tear, 12 people are not in to it, a bag of carrots as a gift, an accident, a lost dog, a broodje kroket. And Damian, who is still in my mind and will stay there for a while. He dreams of playing in a band and when he will ever have a daughter he will name her Amelie. 
Sometimes it feels nothing happens until something moves, but sometimes everything moves without taking part of it.
I keep on walking until i am home.

Tourist, it's a weird state of being. Everything about life is different once we are in an 'exotic' world. We wander, we behave differently, yet we all behave more or less the same. 

This week's Sketch is a co-photo production with Tamar van Haastrecht.

You can keep as quiet as you like, but one of these days somebody is going to find you. 

Self-portrait, Words by Haruki Murakami and Photo by Femke Dee

What would we be without the sun? Ironically, looking at that big old friend is nearly impossible. It shines so bright that it hurts our eyes. How can we appreciate a friend for what he's doing if we can't look directly into the face? We can only face him with our eyes closed or around dusk and dawn.

A window is a hole in a wall. The funny thing is that if you can look through it, others can do the same. During the day and from a higher altitude you feel unobserved and safe, you can watch the outside world below. 
But when the twilight sets in and it slowly becomes dark things turn around.

When driving past the small patches of green jammed between highway and exit I always sense an atmosphere of tranquility. I'm supposed to go out, but i want to go in. But just like in the eye of the storm, the peace and serenity merely appear in the centre.

If you look at anything long enough it seems to turn into something else. It felt strangely intimate to get so close to someone that I could see the skin under their hair. Most people sensed me behind them and we ended up chatting and although I have forgotten their faces I still remember their words.

Photographed at several public squares in some bigger cities on Cuba. Its the only place where internet is available yet. The biggest change coming over Cuba would well be the fact that internet became available. It’s a change you certainly want the Cubans to benefit from, but at the same time you might wish to spare them the load. When I asked people if they are excited about this innovation and the change it will bring, the answer usually is that they do look forward to it, to ad hesitantly that perhaps it shouldn’t come all too fast.