Last night we had our very fist print (as in — offline!) exhibition at the temporarily set up football location Studio B in Mitte. When we were asked to participate for one night we decided to use the plattform and the big white walls to put our work on display. During the past two weeks we have produced
Stitch together the months and you will yield a year. But in Berlin, time is usually measured only in two seasons: summer and winter. Except, sometimes we let the music dictate what we feel. Right now, our circle of friends is preparing for a wonderful summer. We’re lying back and we’re shaking off all the leftover weight
One of the things I don’t like about wintertime is that it gets dark so early. This combined with the freezing cold makes me dream of the summer when we were hanging out on the streets and in the parks until late. But I don’t wanna hate cause I also like the wintertime with all it’s cosyness, especially when
Someone recently tweeted that they were mad at Berlin — if they’d wanted bad weather they would’ve moved to London instead! I jokingly replied “Dude, if the weather is what made you chose Berlin you deserve it”. But I’m not joking anymore. I really can’t deal with the downpour of the past few days. Yes, it looks like it’s
Wanting to be outside in the summer (on a note: I stepped outside today and I wanted to let you know that summer is over and we can finally go back to eight more months of darkness and bitter cold!) and wanting the convenience of cold drinks and a kitchen and a toilet at the same time is usually difficult
You know what I love the most about photography? Especially in our digital day and age (stop being nostalgic for a moment, hippies), we have every opportunity to document, visually, who we are and what we're doing and who we're doing it with. We get to keep every memory, freeze framed, our young (well, some of us are still young), fresh faces packed neatly into little pixels. One day we will unpack the boxes (or hard drives) we've collected and remember those days.
I was at the end of my breath late last year. I was ready to pack it all in, give up, and just hide in a cave for the rest of my life. I was emotionally withered, socially shut down and mentally broken. Yeeeah, I’m overreacting. It wasn’t as big a drama– though it was bad enough. I blamed it
