Creating Horizont: Where Photography Becomes Something You Can Wear
There’s a moment in every creative path when something begins to form, quietly, without structure, without name.
That’s where I am.
Horizont, as an idea, wasn’t born out of strategy. It came from everyday life. From my kids. From being a photographer for more than two decades, and suddenly wanting to create something they could wear, something that felt like my images, but warmer. More alive. More human.
There were no brainstorms. No presentations. Just us, watching the way they play, live, sleep, eat, run, get messy, hug, fall, and get up again. That became the starting point: Not “what do we want to sell” but “what do we want them to remember?”
I didn’t stop being a photographer. I just started using another way to express what I see. From light and landscape to fabric and care. From silence in a photo to softness in something they wear. From distant horizons to the ones right here at home
The name came later. So did the logo, the samples, the drafts. But the feeling was always there: a quiet certainty that this was still part of the same gaze.
Horizont isn’t public yet. There’s no website. No feed. But it’s growing in our home, on our table, in the clothes our kids already wear, and in the memories we’re building together. Maybe one day, you’ll see it.
But for now, I just wanted to tell you where I’ve been. And where I’m going, slowly, quietly, and with presence.