Red River

Fiction Artwork for The New Yorker. (Excerpt) The symptoms, Danny was explaining, were textbook: excessive crying, loss of appetite, feelings of hopelessness. Like Sasha, Danny was the kind of person who trusted textbooks. A good student. Sasha couldn’t sleep, or else she slept all day. She was rarely hungry, unless, in a burst of energy, she baked an elaborate cake. The good news was that, on most days, she still went to work. The bad news was that fear—her boss, her deadlines, the phone that she kept under the pillow, buzzing with middle-of-the-night emergencies—was the one thing that got her out of bed.

You Tell Me

Director & Creative Director for SS25 Suitsupply Campaign

Changing Room in Paradise

Bottle Molds Some shapes are so deeply embedded in our visual culture that we barely notice them—like the iconic form of a classic PET water bottle. But where do these ubiquitous silhouettes come from? Behind every bottle is a mold—a precise, industrial object capable of producing up to 300,000 bottles in its lifetime. These molds, often hidden from view, are the silent authors of our disposable daily lives. Seen out of context, they reveal a strange and unexpected beauty. What was once functional becomes sculptural. Familiar forms take on a magical quality, as if they’ve slipped into another dimension—one where utility meets abstraction. These molds are the ghostwriters of mass production. By isolating them, we begin to see the poetry in the process, and the uncanny elegance of the everyday.

The Bottle

Dior Dance

Fiets = Freedom In the Netherlands, the bicycle isn’t just a mode of transport—it’s a way of life. The preferred vehicle for moving from A to B, the fiets seamlessly blends into the rhythm of daily existence. This series captures the essence of Dutch bike culture, focusing on the everyday commute—with particular attention to the older generation. It’s through them that we see how the bicycle connects lives, spans generations, and carries stories that roll quietly through city streets and countryside paths. More than just motion, the fiets reflects values: sustainability, independence, and quiet resistance to speed and excess. It’s both ordinary and iconic—a symbol of freedom on two wheels.

Fietsers

Warning: To avoid long-term damage to your eyes, it is strongly recommended to wear sunglasses before viewing these images. The artist takes no responsibility for any health issues caused by his work. Looking at Sunny’s art is at your own risk. The Sunny Side Up This project centers around the fictional artist Sunny—an elusive creator who works exclusively with the sun. His images aren’t just bright—they’re blinding. UV protection isn’t optional, it’s essential. Occasionally accepting commissions (such as solar visuals for the weather channel SunTV), Sunny remains focused on his singular mission: making art powered entirely by sunlight. His practice blurs the line between real and artificial, between performance and presence. “It’s about us not seeing whether something is real or fake—because we don’t take the time to really look. It’s about how our happiness depends on the weather. It’s about trying to make a perfect picture of a sunset, but always failing.” — Sunny The Sunny Side Up is the latest exhibition of his work—a radiant, surreal, and slightly dangerous encounter with our obsession with beauty, light, and the illusion of perfection.

Solar Views

Healthy Body

The day the diggers came was the day I lost my home. Officially. - It was a relief. Of course it all started long, long before the diggers. Until I lost it all. My head, My heart, My roots After they took my roots – I went on a journey. Trying to find new ones, I made my choices now with what was left. Holding on to what I wanted to keep and letting go the rest. What I want wanted to keep I also wanted to grow into a better version than the core of these moments, captured. Now we’re here decades later, I look at it and it comforts me to know I have these moments, captured - This frozen, absolute reality. Evidences of loss. By really looking at something, Analysing it - through the hurt you will find reality. This is how we all deal with diggers. And everything‘s fine.

Neighbours are Diggers

Swallow

Spring Feelings

Bag Receiver

Shoe Space

Chanel

Sweet Dreams is exploring the relationship between two objects we all know, love and need to recharge: cakes & mattresses = eating & sleeping. Captured as cross-sections they are revealing the secret inner life with its hidden layers of temptation. Photography & Concept by Mirka Laura Severa Published in Mac Guffin Magazine.

Sweet Dreams

Give freezing models a break! For this project real models where replaced by a group of very experienced snow models who where brave enough* to proudly showcase the latest winter wear fashion trends on top of the Austrian Glacier. *accidents included Role: Concept & Photography

Fashion Snowman

Things & Other Things

Forces of Nature

Airport Security Check for M Le Magazine du Monde.

Airport Check

Recycled Trainer Campaign for Paul Smith Concept & Direction.

The Bottle Pick Up

Custom built terrariums reflecting the origin of the bags, series made with faux fur Bags from Nina Ricci. Concept, Set Design & Photography

Bag Life

Creative Direction, Set Design, Photography for Bibi van der Velden jewellry.

SMOKE

Prada Smoothie

House on Fire

The Philosophers

Bready was born in a Berlin apartment—home to spatial designer and curator Matylda Krzyskowski. But before becoming Bready, it was simply a bread-shaped cushion, available on Amazon for €19.99. Everything changed during a longer stay by artist and filmmaker Mirka Laura Severa. One night, the humble bread pillow transformed—quite literally—into Bready. With the addition of a pair of sunglasses, the cushion took on a new persona. No longer just a pillow—a character was born: Bready. Mirka took Bready along on travels, integrating Bready into spontaneous video art shot on an iPhone. Always close to people, Bready became a silent observer, a performer, a companion. These candid moments created a living archive of fleeting, human connections. From Las Vegas to Benidorm, Paris to countless unnamed corners of the world, Bready continues to travel. Bready hasn’t returned to Berlin—Matylda hasn’t seen Bready since. But this absence only adds to the myth. Over time, Bready evolved. No longer an object, but not quite a person. Not a he, not a she, not a they—just Bready. A traveler. A symbol. A sociological experiment. A conversation starter. Bready invites interaction, curiosity, and connection—becoming whatever people project onto this soft, bread-like form. And one day, perhaps, there will be a grand Bready exhibition—curated by Matylda Krzyskowski. Until then, Bready keeps moving.