Some things in life are so unexpected, they'll knock you of your feet. Completely. Never would I have suspected to upload this post, but it is the the sad truth now. Ten days ago, we have lost a dear friend. She died in a tragic accident, while sitting by a lakeside with a friend and her beloved dog. Since the news has reached us, it seems like I am wandering somewhere between shock, grieve and quite short moments of peace, knowing she was at a beautiful spot and was allowed to leave without actually knowing. Most of all I miss her. More every day.
It has been a while, since I have been posting stuff from the studio on a blog. So much has changed over the last year, that the old The Tiny Fishbowl Collection simply didn't fit anymore. Basicially, we don't live in a fishbowl these days, but in some kind of mansion, aka farm. As many of you might know, we have changed location. From Berlin to the countryside of Brandenburg. From big city lights to a very small rural village, with not even 150 neighbors. The tunes have changed, so to say. So did my work, my schedule and the colors. So, here I am, still close enough to my beloved Berlin, but likewise in love with wide open spaces and beautiful starry nights.
What hasn't changed though, this place will be my open door. An invitation to look over my shoulder, have peeks on what I am working on and learn about all the small and the big stuff, happening in the studio.