Every Saturday, aunts, uncles, blood, and chosen family gathered around my mother's kitchen table. Some loud, some quiet, some still finding their way. Everyone was different, and everyone was entirely allowed to be. Belonging required no performance, no masks, and no hierarchy, just distinct personalities; one collective PULSE.
Years later, I recognised echoes of that same spirit in Nordic cultures. Their flatter hierarchies resonated with what I'd experienced around my mother's table: a space where difference was simply part of being human, not a question of status.
The Landscape
I've always felt drawn to the Nordic relationship with nature and home, too. The cabins, the candlelight, the natural textures. I can't fully explain the connection, but it finds its way into my work.
The Threshold. The Hearth. The Deep Woods.
The language, the colours, the feeling of a place where you can settle in, feel at home and simply be.
The Work
At 53, I walked away from a 20-year corporate career and into acting, without drama school training or industry connections. At 59, I became an entrepreneur again. I had ideas I wanted to bring into the world, and I followed them.
But beyond the freedom I'd known around my mother's table, I began to notice the psychological cages that can remain long after the physical ones have come down on paper.
That tension has stayed with me. On screen, on stage, through speaking, in the studio or around a table.
Looking back, I see that my life hasn't been a corporate ladder or a traditional career path. It has been a series of unexpected creative choices.
I don't have a blueprint for how anyone else should live. I'm interested in what happens when we give ourselves the freedom to question the script, follow an idea and create from the pulse.
