Linde: Turning Pain into Quiet & Playful Creative Mastery
LEGO Flower Ikebana, Croched Superheroes, and Temperature-sensitive Dwarf in the Spotlight at the Second Night of Creative Connections at the Station - a Collaboration with Eindhoven Loves You.
Second Night of Creative Connections – June 25, 2025
By Octophina
Some nights roar.
Others whisper.
But the ones that change you arrive in silence and leave with your heart cracked wide open.
Last night was the second session of Creative Connections at Central Station Eindhoven — and it was one of those nights.
It didn’t look like much from the outside: a few curious passersby, a scattered setup, some handmade objects on a table by the window. But if you looked closely — if you listened — you would’ve seen something monumental unfolding.
You would’ve seen the multidisciplinary creative beast, visionary, and maker Linde.
The Courage to Show up as You Are
Linde is a multidisciplinary maker — a crochet wizard, a 3D printing tinkerer, a LEGO dreamweaver, and an unfiltered creative soul. But lately, her journey hasn’t been easy. She spent the last few months recovering from a major medical complication that turned her world upside down. She was in the hospital for four months. There were moments where it wasn’t clear she’d be able to return to life as she knew it.
And yet.
Last night, I saw her walk through the back entrance of Central Station — her first time there since 2020 — with three shopping bags full of brilliance and a rolling cart by her side. Her father helped carry it in. Her spirit did the rest.
She came back to life in the heart of the station.
She brought her full self — not polished, not performative, but present.
The Art of Remembering Who You Are
Her table was filled with stories:
A color-shifting 3D printed dwarf that reacts to heat and touch
A crocheted kiss — red and soft — which she gifted me, now pinned over my heart
LEGO flowers, arranged with me into a delicate Ikebana sculpture using a salvaged styrofoam torso
A mini crocheted version of herself wearing inline skates — a nod to what she loved before everything changed
Even a crocheted helicopter inspired by Fifty Shades of Grey (yes, really — art moves in mysterious ways)
This wasn’t just a display.
It was a reclamation.
A woman saying: I am still here. And I make.
How We Met: Elmo, a Mushroom Ding Dong, and Dutch Design Week
I first met Linde because of… Elmo.
Yes, seriously.
Back in the summer of 2024, I took part in an upcycling workshop led by Geert Thiersma, a local legend in sustainable design and creative reuse. He challenged a group of multi-generational women to create unique characters using discarded materials.
At the time, I was trying to channel a very specific kind of unused energy — emotional, sensual, powerful — that someone special had stirred in me. I decided to pour it all into something bold, cheeky, and playfully subversive. The result? A plush Elmo with a handmade mushroom dick.
This little rebel ended up on display in a museum shop I curated during Dutch Design Week — part of one of the most celebrated exhibitions on the entire program. Linde and her friend Simone (now also a dear collaborator of mine) came to visit. They saw Elmo, laughed, and something just clicked. Instant connection.
Since then, our creative friendship has unfolded over distance — with Linde mostly offline and unwell, and me thinking of her often. A few weeks ago, I finally visited her at home after her long hospital stay. That’s when I invited her, spontaneously and wholeheartedly, to be one of the featured makers at Creative Connections.
It was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.
A Blank Canvas for her Comeback Story
One of the most meaningful moments of the night came quietly, right at the end. I handed Linde a discarded children’s wedding dress — a symbolic, blank canvas for her contribution to the Future Parade, the grand finale of my Dare to Replay summer program.
Why a wedding dress? Because I’ve been collecting unwanted gowns from Emmaus Eindhoven — objects of frozen dreams, now repurposed into vessels for new futures. I give them to special people who I believe can transform them into something radically different, honest, and alive.
Linde told me she kept every single medicine cup from her time in the hospital. She plans to incorporate them — and her many handcrafted objects — into a therapeutic, futuristic, mind-bending creation.
Her body may still be healing, but her imagination? It’s sprinting ahead of all of us.
Tiny Audience, Huge Milestone
There weren’t many people at the station last night. But that didn’t matter.
Because this was never about crowd size.
This was about Linde. About courage. About the quiet leap it takes to share your creative self after illness, after pause, after fear. Creative Connections is about offering a safe, welcoming space for stories like hers to surface, breathe, and bloom.
And as a creative empowerment coach, this is my life’s work:
To hold space. To witness. To empower.
To remind people — gently, fiercely — that they still carry the spark.
Last night, Linde reminded me.
A Different Kind of Creative Stage
Creative Connections is not just a series of events.
It’s a human-powered platform that centers authentic expression — whether you’re performing music to a crowd or quietly crocheting your way back into the world.
Linde’s return wasn’t just a Creative Connection.
It was a creative resurrection.
And we were lucky enough to witness it.