DADA SOUL N°9 - ANN SOPHIE
Ann-Sophie — co-founder of Bleyckhof, mother, creator — carrying dreams, guided by fire, and learning to move with life instead of against it.
Long overdue to name her as a true Dada soul.
A woman of fire and heart. Honest, direct, deeply intuitive. Someone who doesn’t just create spaces, but holds them — for others, and in moments when it matters most.
She has been my yang to my yin. A real friend. Someone who showed up in times of grief and stress, with a strength and softness that stays with you.
So this is also a quiet thank you.
For being exactly who you are.
Carrying Dreams
When Ann-Sophie speaks about motherhood, she doesn’t separate it from life — she weaves it into everything.
From building and renovating Bleyckhof during her first pregnancy, to navigating loss, to now carrying new life again — each chapter has asked her to let go, to soften control, and to trust something deeper. What she carries today is not only a child, but a quieter strength. A growing ability to move with life, instead of resisting it.
This pregnancy feels different. More grounded. More intuitive. Less about knowing, more about allowing.
HER DADA AND DREAMS
Together with Guillaume, Ann-Sophie co-created Bleyckhof as a place where people can slow down, reconnect, and create from a more honest place.
What started as a dream unfolded differently than imagined — but always stayed true to something essential. Their dynamic lives in contrast: her fire, his grounding. Movement and stillness, constantly bringing each other back to center.
For Ann-Sophie, “doing her dada” means staying close to herself within it all. Creating from joy. Following what feels alive, without needing to know where it leads. The same fire she once softened is now something she allows fully — a force that creates movement, openness, connection.
At the core of everything they build lies a shared desire: to live slowly, to choose time over urgency, and to create from the heart.
BEYOND WORDS - MUSIC
Music has always been a way for Ann-Sophie to translate life — to find meaning where words sometimes fall short.
Over the past year, the music of Amistat held space for her in darker moments. And as things began to feel lighter again, their song Home seemed to arrive alongside her — almost as if it was moving with her journey.
Music is deeply woven into their daily life. Through Guillaume, through the hidden jams at Bleyckhof, through moments of singing without expectation — simply for the joy of it. A reminder that not everything needs a purpose beyond feeling alive.
There is one song she always returns to: Colors by Black Pumas. A song that, for her, holds the full spectrum of life — the highs, the lows, the connection between people and within yourself.
A reminder to embrace it all. Loudly.
WHAT REMAINS
When Ann-Sophie thinks of her children, she thinks in feeling — not in outcomes.
She hopes they will remember her way of moving through life: with fire, instinct, and a kind of energy that doesn’t hold back. Learning to stand in that fully, instead of dimming herself to fit — trusting that what might feel like “too much” is exactly where her strength lives.
But also in the quieter moments — where she questioned, doubted, and learned to face things instead of avoiding them.
Because both sides matter.
The intensity of dreaming and creating — and the simplicity of just being.
More than anything, she hopes they felt space.
Space to become who they are, in their own time.
And that wherever life takes them, they carry a sense of home within themselves — knowing they can always return.
If something remains, let it be this:
to be honest, and fully alive.