I just completed the Inktober 2025 challenge! Thirty-one days and thirty-one prompts to draw (=the Inktober challenge during October), thirty-one one-line drawings made with a single black marker(my own challenge in the challenge).
Beyond the creative challenge, what I found most inspiring was being part of a global community of artists and sketchers, all working on the same idea, each in our own way, yet connected through the shared rhythm of daily creation. Seeing others’ works, exchanging encouragement, and feeling that collective support truly strengthened my sense of belonging.
A heartfelt thank you to everyone who followed, liked, or commented on Instagram and Bluesky, your engagement made this experience even richer. Until the next challenge, the marker will not stop, the inspiration continues, and the visual thinking does the same.
Last week, during the Evidence-Informed Policy-Making (EIPM) community meeting in Brussels, I had the chance to do what I love: bringing ideas to life through graphic recording. But this time was special. I was joined by five colleagues I had recently trained in sketchnoting with Célia Pessaud.
For them, it was their first live recording experience. They stepped forward with curiosity, courage and trust, and they did beautifully. Seeing them in action filled me with joy and pride. It reminded me that leadership is not about doing things alone, but about creating the conditions for others to grow and shine. Célia and I wanted to share not just the techniques of visual thinking, but also the confidence to use them. And that’s exactly what happened.
I deeply believe that visual thinking belongs to everyone as a tool for reflection, communication and collective sense-making. To the five visual thinkers who joined me that day: thank you. You made the invisible visible and you made me proud.
If you are a member of the European institutions and also want to learn the basics of sketchnoting, search for “StartSketch” on EU Learn, our training platform.
In recent years, within the European institutions, we’ve been exploring how to facilitate group work while walking in nature. The goals are the same as when we meet indoors – reflecting on complex problems, brainstorming, long-term planning, or shaping new policies.
But the experience is very different. Indoors, we’re in familiar surroundings: walls, chairs, tables, screens, lights, heating, doors, windows. It’s comfortable, predictable, it helps a group feel safe enough to engage.
Outside, everything changes. There are no straight lines, no thermostats, no chairs or flipcharts. The ground is uneven, the air alive with scents and sounds. Nature surrounds us with movement, silence, beauty and unpredictability. It awakens something deep within us. We feel small and vast at the same time. We reconnect with ourselves, and with the living world around us.
Recently, I joined a 3-day retreat for colleagues who facilitate walking sessions in nature. Ten of us were gently guided by Nikita Stampa Sophie Louveaux and Celia Pessaud in the forests around Orval Abbey in the Belgian Ardennes. We each explored a very personal question: “What is my true life purpose – one that serves myself, others, the institutions I work in, and the citizens of Europe?” At first, I thought this task was too big. I had tried before, alone, without much success. But after two days of silent walks, deep conversations, doubt and wonder, I woke on the third day with clarity I had never felt before. The evening before, I had sat alone and drawn my personal “coat of arms”. As my hand moved, something within me surfaced. It all came together – insights, emotions, questions, and answers – right there on the page. Nature, and skilled facilitation, had done their work. I doubt I could have reached this point in a meeting room.
I’m proud that the European institutions are embracing this ancient yet innovative practice, supporting staff, managers, and policymakers to reflect, connect, and grow.
To serve the society of tomorrow, we must first remember who we truly are, humans, among others, in and of nature.
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Some photos from the 3 days of the retreat, where I tried to capture the atmosphere of reflection, the energies, and the poetry, without showing faces.
Click on the photos to enlarge them from my Flickr gallery
At nearly every event I attend – whether as a participant or a visual notetaker – artificial intelligence is front and centre. People are exploring, debating, and sometimes worrying about how AI is transforming jobs, processes, and mindsets.
This was certainly true at the recent gathering of HR professionals from the European institutions. Speakers and participants shared how AI is revolutionising their roles, procedures, and ways of working. What resonated with me most? Hearing that in the face of this technological upheaval, HR professionals are choosing to double down on the “H” in HR – the human element that makes us truly unique.
On a more personal note, I’m grateful to be considered part of this HR community, even if I’m not officially an HR officer. Over the years, I’ve worked closely with HR colleagues across the institutions, from supporting internal communication efforts in the past, to more recently helping them develop their community of practice, and capturing their events through graphic recording, which they seem to particularly enjoy.
This community, which has now officially opened up to all HR professionals across the institutions, is one I often cite as a powerful example of what it takes to build and grow a successful community of practice.
A heartfelt thank you to those who work tirelessly to keep this community alive – and who trust me to visually capture its key milestones.
It would have been so much easier to write a prompt and receive my starter pack image in one second. Instead, I thought about what I wanted in mine and worked on it long enough to decide I didn’t want to be boxed in. So I escaped from the box. Basically, I’m sad and infuriating to see AIs stealing artists’ rights by copying their art (Studio Ghibli knows something about this), and to make people believe that creating a drawing or any image can be done by prompting an AI with text for a result in a few seconds. Where is the pleasure in taking the time to hand-draw your image? Where is the learning from making mistakes, from wanting to start again and again?
Art and visual creativity are not just a result but are above all and primarily a practice.
Here is my graphic recording from the 3rd meeting of the ECI network, the European Citizens’ Initiative. For a full day, European partners working to promote and communicate this unique tool of participatory democracy gathered at the invitation of the Secretariat-General of the European Commission. Their goal? To explore how they could better collaborate so that more EU citizens are aware of and make use of the initiative. From my external perspective, one key takeaway stood out: to truly reach citizens, we must meet them where they are, with stronger, more effective communication. This means better campaigns, clearer tools, and more resources. Partners also expressed the need for financial support from the EU and called for a simplification of the administrative procedure, so that reaching the goal of one million signatures becomes more realistic. Incentives, encouragement, and active support from the Commission would help initiators stay motivated throughout the process.
And you, have you heard of this unique European tool for participatory democracy?
I would like to thank Barbara Walentynowicz and Adriana Mungiu for trusting me for the second consecutive year with the graphic recording; and thank Mira Bangel and Marina Lynch with whom the facilitation of the event is so natural and efficient.
I led a workshop on Rock Balancing, the first time I’ve ever shared my practice at the European Commission. To be honest, I was a bit nervous (not exactly ideal when trying to stack stones!). For most participants, this was a brand-new experience. They explored the practice, experimented with balancing the stones they had brought, and embraced both the inevitable collapses and the magic of finally achieving balance. The atmosphere was light-hearted and full of curiosity. I’m grateful to everyone for enthusiastically embracing both the practice itself and my guidance.
The practice of rock balancing involves creating a contemplative arrangement of stones in a delicate state of equilibrium. It’s a form of moving meditation. It helps you connect with Nature and with yourself. Through the practice, you develop self-control, self-confidence, patience, calmness, and concentration. It is an ephemeral art where collapses are very frequent. These teach you: To appreciate the present moment and the simple joy of balancing stones; To let go of rivalry, perfectionism, haste, rush, and attachment to possessions. The behaviours required are patience, problem-solving, adaptation, slow breathing, steady hands, and an open, empty mind.
Physics tells us that equilibrium is possible when the object is supported under its centre of gravity. This means the vertical line of the force of gravity passes through the centre of gravity and the contact point on the ground.
It means that for each stone, you have to find its three tiny indentations which act as a natural tripod so that the stone remains balanced.
What if people were stones? What would be the outer hands and force that would allow us to be in balance? In balance as individuals alone and with others. Are our indentations our imperfections, our irregularities, or our strengths? Or all? Just like with stones, shouldn’t we take the time to look for these indentations to better understand what keeps us balanced? I have been practicing rock balancing since childhood, often in the great outdoors.
It is one of my favorite meditation methods, as I am alone in Nature, in intimate contact with the elements, the wind, and myself. During the COVID-19 pandemic, I intensified my practice and decided to take photos that you can watch in my album Rock balancing
