I experience my small garden less as a space and more as a companion. I’ve grown with it. Nothing in it is permanent. I love this change with the seasons, but also over the past 26 years. It’s a place with a manageable degree of change. I can ...
When I moved here, the backyard immediately became my favorite place. I can play table tennis with friends, work on my laptop or lie down on the table and doze off. Sometimes neighbors stop by, and we chat for a bit. Nobody gives me strange looks. I can ...
Actually, tennis and I have a love-hate relationship. Since I was 12, I’ve been trying to hit that little yellow ball over the net as I wish. Often enough, it doesn’t do what I want, and I despair. I’ve sat crying next to the court… But ...
When I finished school, I started going to this place. At first, I didn’t know anyone, but before I knew it, I had become part of an incredibly open community that kept growing. Everyone played with everyone and simply spent time together on and around ...
Luisa (lying): „I feel safe when there’s no judgement, no envy, when there’s trust, support and a deep understanding. My safe space isn’t a place. My safe space is my Cemi.“
My studio is also my safe space. The studio itself is part of my art. It’s constantly changing, adapting, and being readjusted. My safe space is part of my artistic output, and a prerequisite for it.
As a kid I liked to play „Island“ on sofas or armchairs, imagining the whole floor of the room as open sea. On the sofa I was unreachable, on my own, safe – ideally together with a friend and some tasty snacks. Today my bed is this safe space. At the end ...
Every time I visit Cologne, I return to the Lindenthal Canal. The tranquility there, and the harmonious interplay of water, trees, and inviting architecture, evoke a feeling of comfort and timelessness. To be precise, it’s a 1970s feeling I think I ...
The place could be anywhere. What I need is Bach or Brahms, or at least meaningful music. I actually prefer listening alone and at home, but the transition from mere perception to that moment when inside and outside dissolve and I feel like I’m ...
Andi lives on a boat anchored in Cologne’s Rheinauhafen harbor. It’s the place where he feels at home. He sleeps on the waters of the Rhine. He hears the gurgling beneath him, the creaking of the rigging in the wind. „I’ll leave my ...
The drawing course. Every Tuesday in a group. At some point, I realized that the class had become important to me. That I had found something beyond writing with which I could express myself creatively. A blank slate lies before me again. And here, I feel ...
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 ...
During the dark days of my illness, I went for a walk every day. And I soon noticed that my path repeatedly led me to the Museum of East Asian Art. The large windows let in plenty of light, even in winter, and it was always quiet there. I felt connected ...
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 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 ...
