About - September 7th '25

Every evening, right after the sun sets, I hear an elderly lady shouting in my street “POEESSSS, POES, POES” (cat, in Dutch). Then she starts banging on something that sounds like a copper pot, a sound I thought belonged only in films.

To this day, I’ve never seen her. I’ve looked, but whenever I peer out the window, she’s not in sight. I’ve decided I’d like to keep it that way. Some things are more beautiful, left unseen, imperfect, a little mysterious.

Peterselie works the same way. A reflection of reality, of imperfection, of finding comfort in what’s already around us. Bags made from what’s already there, raw and imperfect.

Xx

Bjorn