❄️ It’s getting cold, and the first snowflakes are falling. Looking back, this year somehow feels like it lasted forever. It’s interesting, because I often feel the opposite—that time is racing. Yet now, it feels warm and soft, as if I’ve gained emotional distance from the events of a year ago. Even the memory of this summer feels like it belongs to a small eternity ago. So much has happened, and yet I’m often not even aware of it because life keeps pulling me forward.

It’s fascinating how time can feel both fleeting and expansive, depending on our perspective. In the midst of life’s events, time seems to rush by, leaving little room for reflection. But looking back, the emotional distance and layers of experience stretch and reshape time, making some moments feel like they belong to another lifetime.

Perhaps it’s this paradox—living forward but looking back—that defines our sense of time. Each season, each moment, becomes a layer: softening with distance but remaining an essential part of who we are. The warmth I feel now might come from the resilience and growth I’ve carried through this year. And as the snow falls, winter invites me to pause and honor what has passed, while quietly preparing for what’s to come.

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🍂🐝 At the end of October on the Northern Hemisphere, common wasps (Vespula vulgaris) enter a phase of retreat and transformation. Most worker wasps and drones die off as the weather cools, while newly fertilized queens find sheltered spots to hibernate through winter, preparing to start a new colony in spring. During this period, the few remaining wasps seek out the last bits of nourishment before the temperatures drop too low for them to remain active.

🌷🌳🍂☃️ When I see a wasp nibbling on a dead spider at this time of year, it becomes a symbol of the last efforts in nature’s cycle. She herself is bound to the limits of her lifecycle, shaped by the greater rhythms of the seasons. She represents a moment when even the smallest beings, like ourselves, must align our actions with nature’s cycle, adapting to external conditions that shape and connect us all.

In this transitional season, the wasp reminds me that our interconnectedness with the world is constantly shifting, just as we must adapt and find our place within the phases of life, always dependent on the larger cycle that sustains us.

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🌦🍂 Last day of September: This paper wasp (Polistes dominula) is dying. In September, all of them die, except for the young queens. It is cold and rainy, and it no longer has the strength to fly.

Wasps evoke different reactions in people. The paper wasp is very peaceful and rarely stings, even if you approach its nest. You can recognize it by its orange wings and legs.

I personally don’t perceive other wasps as aggressive either, as long as one respects their natural behavior and boundaries. I forgive and accept that they are not always capable of such foresight themselves.

However, many people react aggressively or fearfully at the sight of a wasp. These strong emotions limit compassion and make it easier to cause these animals harm.

But even if we try to cultivate compassion, true intentions and contexts can easily be misunderstood.

This wasp is visibly moving toward me. It does not want to attack me. Nor is it seeking contact with me as a person. It simply wants my body heat because, in its own perception, it is freezing and still fighting for survival in its final hour.

Yet I leave it to nature, because I understand that its desire, without its knowledge, would only prolong its own suffering.

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“Inner Development”

Here artistic intent and unexpected influences merge. This work, originally intended as a print of a bare foot in dried and cracked paint, took a fascinating turn.

A vibrant palette of green and yellow tones, infused with traces of nature. It wasn't my hand, but beetles that found their way unnoticed that left their mark here. The original vision has been reinterpreted by nature, and the beetles' damage is now a powerful symbol of change and unpredictability.

In this unexpected collaboration I find an organic metaphor for metamorphosis and change. The traces of the beetle metamorphosis, as unintentional symbolism, tells a story of transformation and the unstoppable passage of time. Art and nature merge into a unique aesthetic fusion of planned creativity and spontaneous influences.

I consciously decided against the original footprint in order to preserve the traces of the beetles. This was not a defeat, but a choice that intensified the dialogue between art and chance. The work thus becomes a timeless testimony to the beauty that arises from the symbiosis of human creativity and the power of nature.

In ‘Inner Development’ we see, how the creative process goes beyond the boundaries of intention. The unintended elements are not mistakes but sources of inspiration. This work invites you to discover the beauty in the unexpected and experience the transformative power of art.

The painting is a 20cm x 20cm egg tempera on canvas. The beetles are drugstore beetles (Stegobium paniceum). These have gone through all stages of development inside the dried paint. I collected them and cleaned the painting. It was then disinfected in the oven and prepared with linseed oil varnish. What remains is a detailed landscape that tells a colorful story of life.

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It was a very special time. In total I was there every weekend for 55 days. Much too little. I wish it would have been infinite.🌠 I will miss it very much!
Goodbye Bad Bodendorf! 😢❤️

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🌳🐕👫🏼🌲

✨✨✨💖✨✨✨

Be yourself.
Know what you want.
Stay curious.
Go your way.
Discover beauty.
Come together.
Enjoy each other.
Enjoy the world.
Run around.
Plant some seeds.

🌱🌱🌱🍀🌱🌱🌱

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My pillow whispers sweet nothings 😌💭

Have a nice Sunday and feel cuddled by Vincent! ♥️😊

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Why would I change what I enjoy so much. Life is like a toilet bowl, sometimes you have to scrub. Still, it's good to have one. I was diagnosed with ADHD when I was 20. That brings impulsiveness and sensory overload, but also a lot of creativity and fun. It hasn't made my life better or worse, it's made it as unique as any other. Look what an attractive moon I am!🌝

📆📸 06/08/16/18/06/07

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Vincent spent a year and a half in a tight suitcase. If your son is a stuffed animal, you can do that. For me, looking at him was painful because Vincent was a gift from a woman I loved dearly. The magic of our bond breathed life into it. He became a real baby sloth. I have many fond memories of Vincent. He guarded the fruit basket and mistook kiwis for his eggs. He stuck his round head out of my backpack on hikes. He sat with us watching TV and always had a more or less clever comment ready. He slept in bed with us and lost filling quite quickly from being cuddled so much. Vincent van Sloth, a real sloth with personality. I miss the passion in my life, somehow all the magic has gone. I always had this vibe, the trust in the universe, I could feel the beauty of the world in my body and mind. And I always wanted to convey this feeling to others, or at least share some of it. I'm used to being alone. That's not it. I feel exhausted from the experiences of the past two years. All this insane German bureaucracy on the way to my professional goal. Half a year ago I temporarily stopped my Instagram activities because I needed my energy. I'm feeling better now because I was able to win an important stage. But there is a lot of work to be done in the next few months. The magic will come back on its own one day, and maybe my posts will get some of that as well. I brought Vincent out again because my grudges have faded and suffering has dissolved into heartwarming memories. And now I want him back with me, my little Vincent.

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Wer durchs Leben tanzt, tritt in Farbnäpfchen!

Who dances through life, steps into paint cups!

Quien baila en la vida, se mete en tazas de pintura!

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