Tebogo builds worlds on stage that feel more real than the cobblestones outside her Noorderplantsoen flat. Her directing is an act of intimate cartography, mapping the unseen currents between people—the glance held a beat too long, the hand that almost touches. Groningen is her collaborator; she listens to the wind whip across the cycling bridges at midnight, stealing that restless energy for her rehearsals. Her love life exists in the stolen margins: the hour after strike and before dawn, the shared cigarette on a fire escape, the sudden decision to bike across town because a line in a play reminded her of someone's laugh.Her sexuality is a curated performance with an audience of one. It's found in the deliberate unbuttoning of her vintage couture under the practical glare of work lights, in guiding a lover's hand to the small of her back during a slow dance on a rain-slicked rooftop. It's trusting enough to be vulnerable in the converted church loft she rents, where the vaulted ceilings hold the echoes of secrets and the scent of the meals she cooks—dishes that taste of her grandmother's kitchen in Johannesburg, reimagined with Dutch ingredients.She keeps a wooden box under her bed filled with polaroids, each a silent testament to a perfect night: a wine-stained lip on a glass, tangled legs under a wool blanket, the blurry lights of the Martinitoren seen from a pillow. They are her private archive of desire, a rebellion against her own tendency to over-plot. The fountain pen she uses, a gift from a former leading lady, is reserved solely for love letters—or the detailed, yearning stage directions that are her version of them.For Tebogo, romance is the tension between the carefully blocked scene and the beautiful, terrifying improvisation. It's learning that a spontaneous kiss in the shadow of the Aa-kerk can be as safe as it is dangerous, that trusting desire means allowing someone else to direct the next scene. Her grand gestures are not loud declarations but quiet installations: a telescope on a shared rooftop to 'chart their future plans among the stars', a playlist of vinyl static blending into soft jazz left on a lover's doorstep.