I have been making music since I was four. Later, I trained in mechanical engineering and music technology composition (HKU, 1999–2002) — a combination of machines and music that still shapes how I work today. Technical precision meets deep intuition. An ability to listen before playing, to create rather than just compose.
Early in my career, I composed for clients like Philips, Bosch, and Heijmans. Tight deadlines and specific briefings taught me how to focus energy and deliver under pressure. Structure often fuels creativity. But over time, I gained the confidence to release the music I wanted to make myself — and I discovered that beauty lies not in perfection, but in the human, with all its vulnerability.
Pure Linear Flow is the step where I let go of the net. The space between the notes is where I listen and feel what comes next. The flow is always there — sometimes gentle, sometimes searching, sometimes powerful when it needs to be. Sometimes I venture into a passage that's just beyond reach. Sometimes I find my way back, sometimes something entirely new emerges. And sometimes the moment asks for silence.
My natural way of communicating is without words. I let feeling speak through the music. That is my distinguishing strength. The music itself is the message.
Twenty years of free improvisation — first always with the studio's safety net, ultimately without.
| Surface | Behind it |
|---|---|
| Vulnerability, risk, openness, unpredictability | Twenty years of experience, professional studio, mixing and mastering |
The vulnerability isn't a lack of skill — it's the choice not to use that skill as a shield. It's this: I could be perfect, but I choose the real.