Genuine people are rarely casual. This month's letter is about taking yourself seriously before anyone else validates that seriousness—deciding your work matters before you have a following, treating your creative practice like a practice, not a hobby you'll commit to when conditions are perfect.

I met Liza with a handshake at Rebel Wines, where she taught me to savor orange wine like my oma does — nose in the glass, eyes closed, pursing slurp that opened the liquid to every corner of my mouth. Between the vintage plates, Ukrainian halva, and quiet calm of Egelantiersstraat, we broke the interview walls somewhere between the smoke and the wine. She was generous, and I was in no position to turn her generosity away. I labeled it as nice, and she corrected me: "it's Ukrainian hospitality."

This month's letter challenges the "isolate and grind" narrative. Inspired by Olympic skater Alyssa Liu, who became more successful when she chose holistic living over punitive discipline, we explore what happens when creatives leap toward joy instead of locking themselves away. Featuring art by Colina van Bemmel and poetry by Emma Aellen on hope as the deepest form of love, and home as the body we learn to accept.

On February 28, we filled The Hoxton Lloyd Amsterdam with 53 artists exploring one question: How do you love? This was our immersive exhibition and dinner experience with Pink Poodle Society—a collaboration between two creative communities building spaces for connection in Amsterdam.

Welcome to Window Papers, a look into the lives of the creatives who’ve found their way to CLBHUIS.

How do you catch luck? As creatives, we're taught to share our work, but we keep ourselves tucked away behind it. What differentiates the lucky ones is visibility—the person behind it all. Luck isn't something that simply happens to you. Life doesn't just happen for us. We must meet it halfway.

This time of year compresses everything. The past 12 months blur just as the next 12 start demanding plans and intentions. Before we look forward, it helps to look back. We overestimate what we can do in a day, but deeply underestimate what we can achieve in a year. Here's to reflection without judgment, goals without rigidity.

There's a moment early in our creative journey when the work in your head far outshines the work in your hands. You know what you want to make, but your technical ability hasn't caught up. That gap is actually a gift—a compass revealing what matters to you and where your taste lies.

When you start identifying as an artist, it's easy to get trapped by that label. You believe everything you make has to mean something about who you are. But this framework can be dangerous. Being a creative means learning to move between the self and the external world—to care deeply about what you make, but not mistake it for your whole identity.

When I landed in Amsterdam two years ago, I had no home. My suitcase followed me from hostels to sublets, and my creative life suffered. I've since realized how much "home" propels my practice—sometimes it's a sketchbook, sometimes a physical place, sometimes just a cute little corner.

The truth is, most creative work gets messier before it gets better. And that uncertainty is something we rarely show. Thanks for being a trailblazer and joining us as we try out this idea in real time.

During an age where virality often decrees success, Peter Kuli, the 23-year-old musician behind the viral song “Ok, Boomer,” finds himself at odds with the internet culture which catapulted him to fame.

Key takeaways from Stockholm Design Week 2024: sustainability in design, degrowth trends, and why the best innovation happens outside mass production. A designer's perspective.