The Pyramid Between Earth and Heaven

For me, the pyramid became a form in which building, searching and looking upwards come together.

IF — What if…?

The Shape That Called to Me

The shape of the pyramid has always attracted me. It rests broadly on the earth while reaching upwards. To me, it became an image of a person who must stand firmly while allowing their thoughts to reach further. When I built the Glass Pyramid in Lummen, it grew out of my work and my desire to make new technologies visible.

Yet the building also carried something of my inner search. In glass, light and space, I saw a connection between the concrete and what had not yet been realised. Marco was part of that world. We shared ideas and could think together about what technology, images and imagination might make possible.

The pyramid therefore became more than a building.

The Pyramids of Egypt

It became a place where our shared thinking took shape. Ancient pyramids raise different questions. Looking at their scale, order and endurance makes us feel how short a single human life is. Centuries pass, civilisations change, and yet those shapes remain standing.

They bring us back to a simple thought: what do we want to build that will last beyond our own moment? My interest in the invisible began long before Marco’s death. As a child, I knew the experiences I described earlier: the feeling of being outside my body, without fear. With the years came questions.

What is consciousness? What do our dreams mean? How do we understand something we experience intensely but cannot explain?

A Building Full of Questions

During my busiest working years, those questions sometimes moved into the background. There was work, there were projects, and my family needed me. Yet they remained. After losing Marco, they touched the deepest part of my existence.

Where does love go when someone dies? How do you go on living with so much absence? I began to read, search and listen again. In different philosophies of life, I recognised themes close to my heart: love, hope, compassion and connection.

I found no answer that resolved all the other questions. I did find words and thoughts that helped me carry my grief. Gradually, spirituality acquired a very concrete meaning for me. It had to bring me closer to life and to other people.

My Glass Pyramid

What is the point of speaking about the invisible if I do not truly see the person in front of me? My search gained value when it helped me listen, judge less quickly and love more attentively. That does not take away my belief in a deeper connection. I cannot prove how Marco exists after death.

But my bond with him has remained part of everyday life. I recognise something of him in Chiara and Laura, in the stories we tell and in the curiosity we shared. There are also feelings and experiences that I live through and interpret in my own way. I do not have to explain everything to find meaning in it.

Building in Lummen

The questions remain, alongside love. What this search has given me above all is the desire to live more consciously: to pay attention to those who are here and preserve the memory of those I miss. It is in that spirit that I tell the following experiences. I ask the reader to make room for my story, just as I want to leave room for their own convictions.

There is one shape that has attracted me for a very long time: the pyramid. My interest did not begin with a single book or theory. It grew out of the simple wonder that, thousands of years ago, people could erect buildings that still leave us silent today. When I look at the pyramids of Egypt, I do not see only stone.

Together With Marco

I see human will, knowledge, organisation and a desire to build something that would outlive time. To me, the Great Pyramid of Giza is the strongest symbol of that mystery. The historical account places it in ancient Egypt, in the world of Pharaoh Khufu and the royal funerary complexes. But even knowing that historical context, my wonder remains.

How did people move such enormous quantities of stone? How was that precision achieved? What did the builders know about shapes, proportions, stars and directions? Every explanation answers something while opening new questions.

Perhaps my interest grew stronger because the pyramid also appeared in my own working life.

Light and Technology

In Lummen, we built the Glass Pyramid: a place where ceramics, presentation, technology and a vision of the future came together. It was a modern project, but its shape carried a much older image. Its tip pointed upwards while it remained firmly grounded on the earth. Without fully describing it that way at the time, it became for me a symbol of the bridge I am trying to describe today.

Marco was part of that world too. We talked about technology, innovation and what might still become possible. The pyramid represented our drive to look beyond what already existed. Today, that shape has another meaning for me as well.

What Remains Standing

The broad base reminds me of everything we need here on earth: family, work, responsibility and trust. The tip reminds me of the desire to grow, to search and to approach something of the invisible. My interest in these subjects sometimes resembled an obsession. When a question touched me, I wanted to read everything about it and compare different explanations.

I looked for similarities between buildings, ancient stories, numbers, shapes and human experiences. Not every connection proved equally strong, but the search itself taught me to look. I recognise that attitude throughout my life. As a sales representative, I wanted to know not only what a tile cost, but also how it came into being.

The Tip and the Base

With machines, I wanted to understand what lay beneath the exterior. With software, I wanted to see how an idea could become visible before it was actually built. My attention to pyramids and lost worlds comes from the same source: I want to know what lies behind the visible story. I am not looking for a single answer that must displace all the others.

I seek a language in which history, human knowledge, dreams and spirituality may meet. A dream can give direction. A legend can preserve ancient wisdom. A building can still raise questions thousands of years later.

Their value lies not only in what we can measure, but also in what they awaken within us. That is why pyramids, megaliths, Atlantis, Lemuria and stories about the Hollow Earth belong in my bridge between heaven and earth. They speak of the human need to look further: upwards, downwards, into the past and within ourselves. As long as that search makes us humbler, more curious and more caring, it remains meaningful to me.

IF — What if…?
What have you built that makes something of your inner world visible?