Not just visually — but whether the energy flows, whether the layout supports what people need to do there, whether the environment is truly aligned with its purpose.
I can trace this back further than I care to admit. At eight years old I was furious with my parents for not buying the house my aunt lived in — a place I had fallen in love with at first sight, drawn to its atmosphere and proportions in a way I could feel but not yet name. Later, as a student, I was searching markets and second-hand shops, finding the right piece for my room the way other people find the right word. A friend noticed, and wrote an article about my home. At the time I didn't fully understand why it mattered to others. Now I do.
This way of seeing has never left me. It has simply grown more precise.
Background
I began in hospitality at the top — working at Walt Disney World in Orlando and Center Parcs during my hotel management studies. These were environments where guest experience is not an afterthought but the entire architecture of everything. That standard shaped me permanently.
After graduating, I joined a five-star hotel on the Dutch coast — where the precision required of every detail, every interaction, every environment was non-negotiable. From there, I moved into independent event management, working for large corporations and organisations across the Netherlands in high-pressure settings where quality and consistency had to be delivered, every time.
Then I built something of my own
Three boutique event locations near Utrecht — each one a historic building transformed into a place people would remember. I developed, operated and refined them over fifteen years. Running those spaces taught me what no qualification ever could: what makes an environment work is not how it looks on opening day. It is how it performs on every ordinary day that follows.
Now
I closed that chapter deliberately. I get energy from the beginning of a project — from the concept, the vision, the moment when a space starts to find its identity — and from the final result, when everything comes together and you can feel that it is right.
The long operational middle — the daily management, the logistics, the years of keeping something running — taught me everything. But it was not where my energy belonged. So I made a decision.
Now I work at the two moments that matter most: the beginning, and the realisation. As a spatial curator and concept director — defining what a space needs to become, then assembling and leading the right people to bring it to life.
A life spend looking
I travel constantly — not only to design fairs and international hospitality shows, but through cities, neighbourhoods and cultures I have not yet understood. I want to see how people live in Milan and how they gather in Marrakech. What makes a hotel in Tokyo feel effortless, and why a café in Lisbon holds people longer than they planned to stay.
This is not research. It is how I think. The world is full of spaces that have solved problems their creators never named — and every one of them teaches me something I can bring back.
That perspective informs every project I take on.
What guides me
My work is shaped by more than professional experience. I have spent years studying human behaviour, energy systems and the relationship between environment and how people feel and perform — through frameworks including Human Design and Chinese numerology.
These are not decorative interests. They inform how I read people, how I understand what different environments need to support different kinds of connection and experience, and how I help clients make decisions they can trust.
I do not bring this to every conversation.
But it is always present in how I see.
How to start
Tell me about your project — where you are in the process, what you are trying to create, and what you are trying to get right.
I will tell you honestly whether this is something I can help with, and what that might look like.