In this story, I reflect on my friendship with a remarkable man named Steen, who sadly passed away last year. Steen was a nomad by choice, a man of wind and water devoted to a life without chains until fate clipped his wings.

I portray him in his final bloom.

Steen lived unbound, driven by the roads and rivers that called to him. He was not only a wanderer in his travels but also in his work. In his twenties, he was a photographer in the late sixties and early seventies. Now, decades later, the thousands of negatives he left me awaken his stories once more.

A soul yearning for freedom, defying all odds and struggles, only to find itself ultimately confined by the limits of an aging body.

Only now do I realize how often Steen spoke of freedom in the past tense. I look at pictures of him as a young man in his twenties, full of dreams and possibilities. Then I look at the photos I took of him during the last five years of his life. The same man, but with a different gaze—the fragile core of an independent soul, captured in pure honesty.

When do we stop making plans for the future? When does that imperceptible shift occur?

Do we tell our stories to hold on to who we were, or to understand who we are now?

“I bumped into Steen on a stormy day in March 2019. Both walking our dogs. I immediately felt intrigued by his characteristic appearance, his friendly eyes and his soft way of speaking. Steen had moored his ship that weekend at a dock in Amsterdam and he invited me over. Curious as I was I accepted the invitation which was the beginning of our friendship.

I cherish the many stories he shared and the adventurous life he led. I admire him being unique and not bothering what other people think of him. His independence, making the ship self-sufficient, allowed him the freedom to move it wherever he felt at home. Our shared passion for photography deepened our friendship. Steen revealed his past as a photographer in the ’60s and ‘70s, but he preferred the spontaneity of living day by day, often changing jobs.

A year after I first met him, Steen had to give up this way of life because of his declining health, old age, and financial constraints, leading him to sell his beloved ship, which had been his home for almost 43 years.

Always afraid of a life ashore, he now lives in his old camper-van on a piece of land without running water and electricity. This land belongs to his ex wife and her husband. Here, he tries to build a new, self-sustaining life and find a sense of home. However, his yearning for his old life persists.

After Steen's presence became too much for the owners of the land, they have forced him to leave his self-created paradise. With the help of a good friend, Steen was able to move to a piece of land behind a large empty farm somewhere in the middle of the country. The remains of various cancers and surgeries haven't knocked him out yet, but Steen has no energy left to again create a new paradise, new dreams or adventures.

As I look at him, searching for that old sparkle in his eyes, his sense of freedom seems to have vanished, like a bird that lost its wings

On January 13, 2024, Steen passed away in his trusted camper, just as he wished. He remained true to his promise to be a nomad for life.

In the weeks leading up to his death, Steen, with help from friends and family, planned his entire funeral. The card was ready, and his spot in the cemetery had already been chosen. The large, empty barn had been transformed into a unique space where he wanted friends and family to celebrate and remember him.

I am currently working on a photo book about Steen's life, where both his vintage photography and my own work come together. Stay tuned for more..

To see more of ‘ Life of Steen’ please watch the short docu, filmed by Trip to the Moon Films

The soul, yearning to be free, against all odds and struggles – only to be confined by the limitations of an ageing body… This story unrolls in bold and strikingly humble pictures the story of a nomad who's wings are cut by circumstance, yet his will remains defiant. An intimate and sincere portrait with insight to the fragile core of an independent soul in beautiful honesty with the woman who portraits his final bloom.'‘Gomma