On October 13th, it was finally time for the Dutch Championships Big Air Kiteboarding, hosted by Space-X in Zandvoort. The forecast promised wind building up to an average of 50 knots. In other words: proper big air weather. And with names like Cohan van Dijk, Jamie Overbeek and Zara Hogenraad on the ladder, the level was never going to be subtle.

I was ready for action.

There was one small issue. Being in a wheelchair, I couldn’t get onto the beach. So instead of standing in the sand, wind in my face, salt on my gear, I watched the event from inside the club building. Dry, warm, and without sand creeping into my eyes and ears. Luxury, technically. But also: about 50 square metres to move around in.

My friend Jason Broderick asked me if I really wanted to come. I wasn’t completely sure. But I took it as a challenge. I decided to embrace the limitation, which sounds like something printed on a motivational mug, but there it was. I wanted to see what I could create within those boundaries. To make it even harder, I chose to shoot everything with a 50mm lens on my Leica Monochrom. A small, beautiful camera that only sees the world in black and white.

Minimalism has become important to me lately. One space. One lens. No colour. No chasing every angle. Just looking. Waiting. Being in the moment. The process became more important than the result.

In the end, it was a day of mixed feelings. A few times I wondered what I was doing there at all. But I also witnessed moments I might have missed if I had been out in the field chasing action. Quiet moments. Honest ones. Faces, hands, tension, relief.

I came home with images that, to me, carry more weight than some of my best action shots. Not because they are louder, but because they last longer. Photographs about emotion. About being there, even from behind glass.

Fifty square metres. Fifty millimetres.

Sometimes that is enough.