»Comparing apples
and oranges is my
daily bread.«

Juli Gudehus


I like beginnings. I like to think about the act of beginning as a phenomenon – and as a huge challenge.

The easiest method I have found for myself is to simply start (‘simply’ – hahaha)(the same goes for stopping by the way: simply stop). I start with something directly connected with the project. I start to get hold of it by doing research, taking notes or going through what might be there already – one or another, it doesn’t matter… just get going! From there, one thing will always lead to another, and before I know it, I’ve been at it for hours.

My second method is to creep up on the project more slowly and tentatively. I might tidy up around it and clear, or rearrange my workspace. That way I semi-consciously encircle the pile of what I have – my notes, rough sketches, the brief or any texts and images I’ve gathered.

The two methods are opposites to one another, and if my project were a lake, you could think of them like this. Method one is to simply’ jump in without toe-testing the water first. Method two is to stand at the side as my grandfather used to, and splash a few drops of water on yourself first, allowing your body to get used to the idea of taking the plunge. Theoretically, I am all about jumping straight in, but practically though only periodically I tend to take after my grandfather – one drop at a time. If I feel myself hesitating too long though, I try to make up my mind to jump. Finally.

Method three is not really a method at all, but rather a present: having started already and unexpectedly finding myself in the thick of it, I no longer need to think about a beginning.