April 29, 2011

"lane changed"

Back to the sunny side. Dont know if it is only me, with a lesson learned, but everybody seems to pass the shop windows with an early morning smile on their face. The Fishbowl is looking forward to a busy day; more work on the portfolio prototype, a promise walked through Plänterwald and another dinner with friends and supporters tonight. Aspargus included, of course.

April 28, 2011

"limited difference"

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

"spring injected"

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

"puzzle pictured"

There is an Easter Rabbit hidden. You only have to look carefully. Very carefully. Do you spot it? Come on, try a little harder. Well, right. Silly me. A couple of weeks ago I had secretly shot a picture of an impressive Chocolate Rabbit Clan, lined up at the supermarket. Since then, it sat there, in one of my folders, somewhere on my computer and I almost couldn't wait to get it out and share it. Today, of course, would have been the perfect day. The only day of the year, in fact. But, after looking and searching for about an hour, there is nothing else to say than: They are gone! Stolen or kidnapped by some evil spirit. Well, somehow I must have deleted the cute little things and have to leave you now, with tons of delicious white aspargus, which we had last night, and a sneak peek of my bedroom view. I am going to leave the Fishbowl, off to the parc and you, you have a gorgeous, most wonderful Easter Sunday.

April 22, 2011

"orange colored skies"

Due to Good Friday there is not a lot going on in the Fishbowl. No Open Studio day, but some painting business, the invitations for the guest show in May went out and I am doing a bit of day dreaming over too many sweets and coffee. In fact, the dreaming thing started last night already. One of these moments when you sit on the couch, totally awake at 3 a.m., while feeling you could sell all of your stuff instantly and travel the world. Whatever obstacle popping up, easily tackled. I've always wanted to live in New York, go back to New Zealand at least every sixth month, or own an old shed in the middle of nowhere. A wild fishpond and bean stalks included. There are hundreds and thousands of blurry pieces in my head, ideas of what I could wish and aim for. Some of them constantly change in high-speed, while others have followed me for as long I can remember. Even through childhood people have always called me a dreamer and warned me, I will be dissapointed and bitter in the end. That is not how I feel at all. Dreaming has carried me through this life perefectly and inspired me to do things, nobody thought I could do. It is not important, to bring every fantasy into reality, but to believe in things beyond everyday routines.

April 19, 2011

"the value of willful ignorance"

Last week has been conquered with grace and with a renewed, firm attitude toward agencies and offices. The appointment I had been writing about lately, did go well. So to say, it did go well in terms of nothing dramatic happened. After waiting for almost two hours in an unfriendly place, surrounded by grumpy officers with no sense of humor, I had received two smiles, one affectionate handshake and a form saying nothing more, but was clear before. I decided to rather put focus on the fresh, green grass, than on lost hours, spent in a nasty, cold hallway. Life is too short.

"friendly demand"

 A little note, found in a street close to the Fishbowl. It says: "Compliments for free, but the flowers have to stay." Kind of typical Berlin.

April 13, 2011

"supposedly in return"

The atmosphere in the Fishbowl is kind of low today; it's raining nonstop, grey skies get into competition with silly bad-mood-bugs, crawling around the studio, and I am back to the hot tea and socks routine. I even had porridge this morning. I know, some of you might wrinkle their noses in disgust, but usually that stuff helps me feeling comfortable and to relax somehow. The trick didn't work this time. Maybe it is just one of these days or the prospect of an ugly appointment tomorrow morning. I can't tell. After almost two amazing weeks, filled with sunny Spring moments; 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

"lovely release"

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.  

April 05, 2011

"a circus of jerks & circes"

The most unusual places will offer the sweetest surprise, the totally unexpected probably turns out to be vibrant, shiny and bright. Life plays these tricks and this time it has been simply brilliant. A secret invitation brought us to a tiny, almost forgotten night club. A place lost within stained wallpaper, broken mirrows and a hidden bathtub on stage. Somewhere in an area either deserted and sad, the doors opended and we found ourselves in the middle of laughter, joy and tons of passion. Like many of us, I did have a circus back in my childhood days; friends playing the clown, juggling balls and dropping them, a princess, a magician and parents applauding in the livingroom. Friday night, this faded poem came back to life and was given to us in a glittering fresh fantasy. I absolutely loved everything about those feathers and the soul, the brilliant rhymes, beats and that glimpse of  charmingly offered skin. Thank you very much, you bewitching circes and adorable jerks for such sensual feast. Thank you for having us. I can not wait for another round in your wonderful manege.