Blog / Chronik

It’s hard to watch. It’s hard to live through. It’s hard to talk about.

But let’s talk about it.

Let’s talk about the detentions, disappearances, and deportations.
Let’s talk about disobeying court orders and no punishment for crimes committed.
Let’s talk about violating the Constitution.
Let’s talk about the hatred, villainizing, racism, and sexism.
Let’s talk about public programs being gutted, from the arts, to medical care for minorities and women, to healthcare and food stamps taken away from millions of people, to criminalizing poverty and homelessness, to government workers losing their jobs.
Let’s talk about armed forces being deployed against our own citizens for utilizing their right to peaceful protest.
Let’s talk about silencing the voices of the oppressed.
Let’s talk about the revoking of citizenship and families being torn apart.
Let’s talk about how it has been made into a negative thing to feel compassion and love.
Let’s talk about fear.

Yes, and let’s talk about the millions of people who are brave enough to stand up for the country they love, who want to restore democracy and free speech, who want everyone to have basic human rights, who are willing to risk imprisonment and violence against themselves to fight for what they feel is right. Maybe it’s attending a protest, making a post on social media, writing a blog, creating a piece of artwork, or distributing a flyer. Maybe it’s a hard conversation with the people they love who are blinded by misguided morals.
Surely, we can’t all be silenced?

963M+M6 Westerly, Rhode Island

I can’t quite say yet what this is going to become. I mean, in terms of cooking, that part’s clear (everything on that photo was joyfully joined to a Greek Tzatziki), but metaphorically speaking  I’m still figuring that out.

All I know is that there’s something deeper about this image. Something about life itself. About the ingredients for a happy and fulfilling existence. Thoughts about cleanliness, order, clarity and other overused buzz-words. To be always prepped, efficiency, to be in control of all the variables – aesthetics of course too. All of that and more. But…it just doesn’t make any sense yet.

 

To be continued… (Sorry, Sarah that this turned into yet another cliffhanger now)

 

WQ9X+XPH Gmunden

There’s so much happening all the time. Yet the roses are right there, right now.

98GQ+X8 Charlestown, Rhode Island

It’s a small stream of pure mountain water. It winds gently, freely, and effortlessly down the mountain and crosses the road here. One could easily step over it – it’s only half a stride wide. But if you listen closely, it’s an invitation to pause. Nature does not strive. It doesn’t need to. It simply happens. The water babbles along, dividing further within the limestone into smaller streams. White limestone. When lifted: light, angular, and yet smoothly soft. And wet. When stepped on, it crunches slightly – like when two generous pieces of chalk are gently rubbed together. It’s still early, no one is around. It’s just me alone. The sun is announcing itself. Sparkling. Good thing there’s also a glass at hand. One more sip of water. The hiking boots fit well and softly. “Resume” and the headphones back on: Mozart, Piano Concerto No. 27 in B-Flat Major, Op. 17, third movement, Allegro; Semantic Dissociation

 

3WF9+WR6 Fischlham

 

Q: What are we looking at here?
A: The secret part of a frame.
Q: What does that have to do with anything?
A: Well, it’s a symbol.
Q: What is success?
A: I think success is not so much a measure of monetary gain or fame, but rather that you’re doing something
you love, constantly learning, and that you’re generally happy with the work you do.
Q: How does this symbol relate to measuring success?
A: Lately I’ve been getting the feeling that I’m “making it.” My growth has been very slow, but that’s what
keeps it sustainable. One gallery at a time, one subscriber at a time, one photograph at a time.
This frame symbolizes both my successes with getting my work out into the world, and also
the struggles. Between the physical difficulties of preparing work for a show, to the interpersonal
challenges of tough gallerists, to the sacrifice of time I make to market myself and stay in people’s minds.
It’s hard work, but I love it. Each new show I’m part of teaches me something. Above all: I’m happy.

I guess that means I’m a big success, even if I only have 371 followers on Instagram. Thank you for being a part of the journey.

Picture, if you will, a noble, grand, imaginary scale.

Two pans, one on each side.

One hangs low, nearly scraping the floor.

The other, completely off balance, is jutting high up into the air.

What could possibly be causing such an imbalance?

What is this symbolism intending to illustrate?

What even happened?

 

Well – strictly speaking – nothing. And that’s precisely the point. It’s the first little nod to our opening metaphor.

On the low-hanging pan rest many of “my Saturdays”—those days when I occasionally ponder which subject or theme to pluck from the overflowing buffet of possible inspirations.

And on the other pan? A weightless nothingness – the rather uncool byproduct of my unstructured nature and forgetfulness.

Something Sarah, ever so unintentionally, reminded me of just last Saturday – when she indirectly mentioned that it hadn’t been her turn for the blog… but that it was actually mine.

Arrrrghh.

At the very least, I did manage to take three low-resolution snapshots on my phone that day.

Mostly just to show Sarah – and maybe the tourism board of Rhode Island – how fondly I still wear the memories I brought back with me some time ago. But now those three pictures play a way more important role: to act as the foundation for a modest attempt to balance out two things at once:

First, that reoccurred, aforementioned forgetfulness.

And second to finally write some light-hearted blog post again – one that’s not dealing with any of my usual, more or less subtle life philosophies or thoughts about human purpose.

So it happened that I ultimately came up with the following, pretty nice idea:

Because that little snapshot happend right after I slipped into that merch-shirt after another day in and at the indoor pool and because swimming and diving still remains a blissfully simple source of joy in my life, I thought that it would be wonderfully silly and banal – and yet, somehow not at all – to share my very personal list of my most favourite and fun underwater diving moves with any curious readers! So, finally – here we go:

• The Crazy-Eye™: diving down, holding the nose, rolling onto the back and staring up at the magical, shimmering surface from below
• The Crayon Ponyfish™: diving all down to the bottom of the pool and brushing the chin slowly along the pool floor
• The Hennessey Maneuver™: taking a deep breath, diving below the surface, exhaling strongly underwater all while doing a forward somersault
• The Klaus Daimler Walk™: doing a handstand beneath the surface and walking a few meters on the hands
• or: simply sinking below the surface, just enough that the head is fully submerged, closing the eyes, listening to the merciful silence that’s within that world and thinking how right Ned Plimpton was indeed when he told Steve Zissou that he still wished he could breathe underwater.

 

2M62+FG Vöcklabruck

It’s true: I wish I could hide under the bed like this cat.
They’re cute, they’re fluffy, they’re fun. People say if you love what you do, it’s not really work.
But when it’s a job that keeps you away from home for weeks on end…
When all your spare time is spent driving to other people’s houses to feed, play, scoop litter…
When you’d rather be doing anything else, even though the company is nice…
Then it’s work.
And what do you do when you don’t need the work? Do you quit? Do you cautiously hold on to it, in case there comes a day when you’re feeling less stable? Do you try to scale back your efforts, only to find that that is much harder than it sounds to say no to the people to depend on you?

What do you do?

FMXW+26 Newport, Rhode Island

Let me briefly explain what today’s picture and thoughts are all about. It’s about a pinball machine that’s already 35 years old – fragile, and deeply cherished by me. And it’s about me and the fact that I’m

a) someone who’s pretty competent at playing the machine, but also

b) someone whose knowledge of electronics and mechanics is very, very, VERY basic at best.

It’s about how I recently had to call in a technician because of a mysterious error that left the game unplayable for many years. And it’s about the incredible joy I feel now that, after such a long time, the machine is finally working again.

But above all, it’s about the fact that, even after the repair, I found myself more nervous than ever – worried that the next time I turned it on, it just… wouldn’t start again.

For far too long, I chose to push away that uncomfortable and abstract fear – reassuring myself that everything was and would remain fine.

That there was nothing to worry about, especially as long as I didn’t touch any of the many complex and sensitive electronic parts.

Well, that worked – until it didn’t.

At some point, hiding from that worry just wasn’t enough for me anymore.

So I called the pinball technician again to simply share my concerns with him and to ask if there was anything I could do to make the machine a little more robust, to increase the likelihood that it will remain a fun and functional pinball machine for at least a few more years.

Long story short: yes, there was indeed something I could do. Even for me, the technical greenharn that I am. Something that would make the circuits, connectors, transformers, transistors, and coils “a bit happier” and less prone to failure: to simply replace all the “power-hungry” traditional light bulbs with modern, power-saving LED bulbs.

A brilliant way to significantly reduce the system’s electrical load – a genuine life-extension measure, so to speak.

So I threw myself into the task. I replaced over 120 different lights: some with screw sockets, some plug-ins, some colored, some clear.

Some easy to reach, others ridiculously buried and bolted into place (which, I thought, was a pretty funny metaphor for life – about how some things are just so inaccessible and difficult to reach).

And now?

Now the machine shines in an entirely new light again. Crisp, punchy, and bright.

And what about the charm of the old incandescent bulbs? For the most part it’s gone. It’s part of history (As seen on the photo) But there are still a handful of lightbulbs in the machine that I simply couldn’t reach. A little side fact that I somehow like as well.

What matters most, is that the chances have gone significantly up that I’ll be able to keep this machine a little longer. And also that I no longer have to hide from  and duck away from that fear and uncertainty. That I instead took action. Something I should probably have done much earlier.

 

WQ9X+WP7 Gmunden

Let’s talk. I think we can all agree, no matter who you follow or where your loyalties lie, that there’s some crazy stuff going on.
It can be hard to process. Overwhelming. It can feel powerless, helpless.
But there’s something we can all do to make things a little better.
It’s simple.
Kindness & Community.
If we can be there for the people in our circle, be a source of positivity and joy, that can make a huge impact. In theory, by helping those close to us, there can be a ripple effect that spreads to a larger community. If we can make our little corners of the world a better place, we’re making the world a better place.
“You may say I’m a dreamer, but I’m not the only one.”
John Lennon was onto something. Maybe I’m just a little bit of a hippie, but I truly see the value in being a kind soul. Won’t you join me?

 

FMGP+JF Newport, Rhode Island

Frankly and just between us: I’m still feeling drained and tired. Even today, when I had my appointment at the hair salon at 8 a.m., before anyone else had even arrived. But again, I have to smile: who would have thought that my tight schedule last week, a children’s theater play, and some kamikaze-like hairstyle experiments would be the things to gently blur out the grayness of last week even further.

It’s often really hard to accept certain circumstances in life as they are. Or even to see them. Or to just look them in the eye for a while. Even though the true reasons behind the grayness of the days will certainly still require a great deal of attention, there are some other life circumstances that directly and indirectly help to lighten things up: like the fact that my apartment’s heating system is now working reliably again and has been gifted a life-extending spare part. Or that I recently, quite by chance, found myself among grandparents and toddlers at my very first “picture book cinema screening” of Maurice Sendak’s much-revered “Where the Wild Things Are”. Or that, in the coming weeks, I’ll be trying to resurrect outrageous 1980s hairstyles together with a crazy coworker.

Okay, obviously not everything’s grey – in fact, a few colors are coming back. Time to roll up sleeves for everything else coming up. Slowly, it’s getting time to let the Wild Rumpus start again!

52J7+VG7 Wels