This blog is written in English to align with upcoming international initiatives and to connect with a global audience.
As an audiologist, I’ve always seen hearing as more than just the mechanics of the ears. It’s a gateway to connection, to understanding, and to what lies at the very core of human existence. To hear is to truly be heard. To listen is to provide space for others to belong. These principles form the foundation of my work and, increasingly, my art.
I create large-scale works on acoustically absorbent canvases—art that not only speaks to the eye but transforms the environment it inhabits. The colors I use are deeply rooted in nature: the fiery embrace of orange and red, the calm expanse of blue waters, the grounding browns of the earth, and the boundless whites and grays of mountain peaks and snow. My pieces are untitled because I believe art, like sound, is personal; it evokes a unique story in each viewer. I only assign codes for practical reasons, allowing galleries to manage these works administratively.
The Art of Hearing and Being Heard
Hearing is more than a physiological process; it is central to our humanity. It is how we make sense of the world, share our stories, and feel a part of the “circle of life.” Through hearing, we connect—not just with sound but with each other. And this is where art enters: art, like hearing, fosters connection. It invites us to see and hear differently, to engage deeply, and to reflect on the stories we carry.
In a world increasingly defined by division, we need spaces where we can truly listen to one another. This year, 2024, the Dutch dictionary Van Dale chose “polarization” as the word of the year—a reflection of the tensions and divides felt around the globe. But as the year closes, I find myself asking: what if we choose a different path? What if, instead of focusing on what separates us, we create space for dialogue, for connection, and for belonging?
Art as a Bridge
Art can be that bridge. It can be the space where we put down our judgments and pick up curiosity instead. When we stand before a painting, no one asks us about our political beliefs or our faith. What we see—or what we hear, in the case of an audiologist—transcends boundaries. Art reminds us that we belong to something larger than ourselves.
My upcoming projects and podcasts aim to create such spaces, where people can come together to hear and be heard, to see and be seen. These are small acts—like drops on a glowing plate—but they have the potential to ripple outward.
Each small step matters. Every piece of art, every conversation, every moment of connection adds to a larger wave of change. If we no longer dare to hope for a better world, then we resign ourselves to the belief that it cannot be different. But hope is the seed of transformation. We must dare to hope—for a better world for all of us.
A Call to Connection
As we step into 2025, my hope is simple: let us listen more closely, look more deeply, and connect more fully. Whether through the natural colors in my art or the natural harmony of a meaningful conversation, let us build a world where everyone feels they belong.
Because to hear is to understand, to hope is to believe, and to believe is to create the change we so desperately need. Together, we can build a better world—one small act, one connection, one conversation at a time.
Where Art meets Science.
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