Who would have thought that creative coding would take me far?
Not metaphorically — literally 8,900 kilometers.
What began as a quiet experiment in Berlin somehow unfolded into a ticket to Japan. And just like that, I found myself on a plane to Tokyo, heading to JSConf Japan to talk about music visualization.
Creative coding had always been a side hobby — something small, something personal. The digital equivalent of doodling in a notebook. I never expected it to open a door, let alone one that led halfway across the world.
But that’s the thing about creativity: it doesn’t move in straight lines. It wanders. It loops. It takes detours. And if you follow it long enough, it shows you places you didn’t know were waiting for you.
In my day-to-day work, everything has a purpose: a deadline, a requirement, a measurable outcome. There’s little room for wandering or getting lost. Creative coding fills that gap. It gives me space to explore, to follow small curiosities without knowing where they lead. With time it becomes a habit, a way of moving through the world — a soft reminder that the path matters as much as the arrival.
For me, it started with a talk at GoTo Chicago about the math behind music. Then another one on music visualization at Grace Hopper Celebration. Then a live music coding workshop in Amsterdam. Then an Algorave performance at C3Fest — dancing to live-coded music, as if the logic itself had grown a heartbeat.
When I create music visualization, it’s the closest I ever get to feeling like a musician. I play with rhythm, shape, and unexpected movement. I listen for patterns — the ones hiding beneath the surface — and let them guide what happens on the screen.
And the best part?
There’s no plan.
No agenda.
Only curiosity.
I follow whatever pulls me in: a line that suddenly decides to dance, a sphere that rotates just a little too slowly, a shape that seems to hum along with the bass. Sometimes nothing works. Sometimes everything does.
Sometimes it’s chaos.
Sometimes it’s magic.
And sometimes it feels like the code is teaching me something about sound, or maybe about myself.
Maybe that’s why creative coding matters so much to me.
It encourages me to follow the threads that don’t lead anywhere except somewhere unexpected.
A place where curiosity is the destination. And maybe — in a world ruled by deadlines and deliverables — that small, wandering freedom is worth holding onto.
And if I’ve learned anything, it’s that sometimes the smallest curiosities can take you the farthest.