These gardens mattered to me.
Through them, I could express things I can’t put into words.
Design became a way of listening, shaping and letting something true take form.
In 2021, my work in the garden became deeply personal with the birth of my daughter. On a simple grassland plot, shaped like a wide “V”, I began working on a place that would quietly honour new life.
I shaped a Hügelkultur bed following the form of yin and yang. One side became a place for compost and renewal. The other turned into an outdoor living space, where I could sit, rest and enjoy what grew. Work and pleasure naturally blended, as they often do in a garden.
The land belonged to a farmer named Pascal. He works the land in a grounded way, growing food and caring for it so it can provide for his family and the wider community. Deeply connected to the seasons and the responsibility that comes with working the soil, his way of living was present throughout the project and quietly shaped both the garden and me, as a father.
The shape of the bed also reflected the initials of my daughter’s family name. Without overthinking it, the garden became a tribute. A place that carried meaning simply by being worked with care.
Here, I grew the pumpkins that later became her first solid food. Nourishment grown from the land, shaped by time, attention and shared effort.
This project wasn’t just about building a garden.
It was about learning to provide, to care and to grow something that lasts. For the land, for my family and for the life that had just begun.
In 2022, I came back to Belgium after spending time in Portugal. That place stayed with me. The warmth, the light, the way everything feels a bit slower and more natural there. It made something clear for me: I wanted to create gardens that make sense. Gardens with edible plants, spaces that feel right and places where you can really connect with nature.
That idea became Zintuin, which means “Sense Garden.” It was the beginning of what later grew into SoulSprout.
I started with another Hügelkultur bed, this time shaped like a rockrose flower. I chose that shape because the rockrose was my favourite flower during my walks in the Algarve. The garden wasn’t made to impress, it was about feeling at home. Design followed nature, not the other way around.
That summer, the garden gave back in the best way. The tastiest tomatoes I had ever eaten. Long, warm days outside. Nights spent sleeping under the stars, right there in the garden. It became a place to rest, to be, and to feel connected.
This project marked a turning point for me. It wasn’t just about building a garden anymore. It was about creating edible, soulful landscapes that feed both body and senses. Zintuin became the seed — the start of the path that continues today as SoulSprout.
In Finland, our second home, we live within a small and close-knit community. When Lily turned one, we chose to celebrate differently. Instead of gifts, we invited friends and family to help us work in the garden. Together, we dug out the first terrace. That moment marked the beginning of this place.
Each time we return, the garden grows with us. A new project, a small shift, a bit more life. Fruit trees and berry bushes took root, a terraced vegetable garden emerged, and a quiet moss garden slowly formed. A place to rest, especially after the sauna.
This garden feeds us in many ways. It offers food, yes, but also connection. It holds shared effort, time spent together and memories woven into the soil. A living place that continues to grow alongside our community
In Portugal, close to where Lily’s grandmother lives, I worked on a small garden within a quiet community of about ten houses in the mountains. From the very beginning, this place carried meaning. It is where Lily’s life began, long before the garden took shape.
I returned there several times each year, and with every visit the garden slowly grew. One winter, I reshaped part of a deep gully where soil naturally collects. By carrying stones down from the hills and stacking them by hand, I created a path that made the space easier to move through and more open to spend time in.
I planted trees that don’t grow in Belgium but belong to this climate. Avocado, mango and banana. Trees chosen with the hope that Lily will one day walk this path, picking fruit along the way and enjoying what has slowly taken root there.
The garden continues to unfold over time. Each visit adds a layer, shaped by care, work and time in between. It has become a place where land, family and memory are quietly woven together.
In 2023, while living in the city of Ghent, I worked together with Charlotte on a special garden project called Lotshof. We transformed a part of their garden into a place to step out of city life and reconnect with nature. It became my own small sanctuary while living in an urban environment.
The design of Lotshof was based on the Fibonacci sequence, a natural pattern often found in plants and landscapes. This structure helped shape the garden in a way that feels balanced and natural, without forcing form or symmetry.
Over time, Lotshof grew into more than a private garden. It became a place where we hosted workshops, children’s activities and small gatherings. A space where people could learn, explore and spend time outdoors together.
This project showed what can happen when collaboration, design and care come together. A simple garden became a living place that continues to inspire, support learning and invite connection.
In 2024, I turned our residential garden in Belgium into a place that brings everything together. A garden shaped as a sanctuary, rooted in the elements and in everyday life. This is where homegrown wellness took form.
The garden is more than a place to grow plants. It reflects how I work and live: a balance between nature, wellbeing and thoughtful design. Edible planting, quiet corners, space to rest and space to move. Nothing added without reason.
The principles of Zintuin are woven into the design, together with simple wellness elements. Earth, air, water and fire each have their place. This is where my family and I spend time outdoors, connect with nature and with each other.
This garden is our nest. It’s where we live, where SoulSprout feels closest, and where many ideas were shaped. During long sauna sessions, the vision for SoulSprout became clear. The garden grew into our own retreat, a place for rest, reflection and inspiration.
From here, new projects continue to emerge. Rooted in daily life, shaped by care and guided by nature.
