The small café is a quiet spot in the middle of the city. The regulars know each other by sight and take their time, while the passing crowd blends in with the atmosphere. The coffee is good and the service impeccable. I sit there—preferably with a good ...
On good days, my study transforms into my hobby room. Then I’m not sitting at my desk doing everyday tasks. Instead, I immerse myself in projects I’ve chosen for myself. The room becomes a cabinet of curiosities, filled with all the tools ...
The kitchen in my small apartment. The sun sometimes shines in. The newspaper, the bills. Everything is in front of me on the table. There’s a large fir tree outside the window. I like watching the squirrels climb up and down it. Especially in spring.
The moment I first rehearsed here, I knew this would be „my“ place. That I had found a space here to develop my ideas. In winter, it smells of coal-fired heaters; in summer, I hear the rustling of the trees. Or the jazz music from the cafe ...












































