April 29, 2011
April 28, 2011
After great days with sunshine and lightness, today it was stormy skies over the Fishbowl. Though the result is an almost finished livingroom, the way up there was plastered with grumpy moods, some arguing and a good dose of awareness, that I am still really bad in keeping up boundaries between myself and other people's moods. Maybe this is going to be one of my lifetime challenges or I simply haven't found the perfect strategy yet. On the other hand; is life about perfect solutions anyway? Maybe it is more about laughing at our imperfections and about that huge bowl of Spaghetti, waiting in the kitchen for me.
April 26, 2011
The sounds of the parc still in my head, colors of sunny leaves, plastic bowls and tiny pink blossoms still kicking in; I am slowly arriving, right in the middle of this Fishbowl Tuesday. Life has been easy over the weekend. Spring has to be my favourite season in the city. Everything feels fresh and alive, people not only wear hopeful dresses and shirts, but also an idea of love on their faces. Maybe it is only me, but I seem to never get enough out of a day and I cannot wait for the next weeks to come. Friends from Uruguay are coming to visit, we are busy working on "Berlin Bites", a project we've have received a nomination for and a great artist from Sylt is going to showcase with me in the Fishbowl. So, things are looking not too bad afterall.
April 24, 2011
April 22, 2011
April 19, 2011
April 13, 2011
coffee and friends outside, long walks with Emma and smiling people everywhere, it is probably the sense of having lost what you were just about to enjoy. Less pathetic though. Tomorrow at noon the appointment will be tackled and the sun will come back soon as well. "Attention, you stupid bad-mood-bugs, I will not let you stay for long!" For today. Whatever.
April 07, 2011
I did promise good news and here we go: Sold! Two pieces within less than a week; I am over the moon, as you might guess. One part of being an artist, is of course, selling your work. Even after so many years, it hasn't ceased to be something special and extra exciting to me. Something that I will always cherish and be thankful for. Periods that are low on sales can make you really nervous and a bit doubtful. Though I understand that the quality of work is not found in the amount of money you're making with it, at the end of the day, sales are one kind of a solid recognition that we might be following the right paths. Besides the fact, that your profession is the thing you want to make a living with. I don't know about you, but the first time I was ever giving a piece into the hands of a collector, it has been a bitter sweet moment; one filled with pride and pleasure, but also a good part of sadness, watching my "baby" leave. Over the time you get used to it and dealing becomes less of a deal. It is just what we do. Sometimes though, selling moments are true highlights. When someone approaches you and has been honestly fallen for a piece. You can see it in their eyes; how they look at the work and how they talk about it. My heart starts jumping like crazy, everytime this happens. I'll probably hide goosebumps under my sleeves, start to shiver secretly and will hold my breath, before starting to inhale every single second of it. Someone who burns for something that you have created, I could not imagine a more delicious reward for the nasty moments in between. Living as an artist is great.