Dieses Buch wird Ihr Leben Verändern!

Für alle, die es noch nicht haben oder nicht wissen: Unser Buch “Was wir von der Liebe verstehen” kann man jetzt kaufen, leider bisher nur in deutscher Sprache, aber das wird sich bald ändern.

Es ist in der Tat lebensverändernd, man kann es immer wieder lesen, viel lachen, manchmal auch weinen, es ist offen und ehrlich (vielleicht zu ehrlich), was man heutzutage so selten findet wie eine unverbaute Aussicht.
Deshalb kauft es, lest es, vorallem verschenkt es an alle Paare die ihr kennt und solche, die es werden wollen. Und vorallem an die, die ihre Hoffnung an die Liebe glauben verloren zu haben.

Wir haben auch noch einen Blog dazu eingerichtet, in dem wir abwechselnd über die Freuden und Leiden der Liebe schreiben. Sven hat ihn mit einer Geschichte über Vertrauen eröffnet und ich werde bald darauf antworten. Außerdem gibt es Textauszüge und ein Interview zu lesen und kleines Video zu sehen.

Unser Wunsch ist es, noch mehr Autoren zu diesen Themen zu gewinnen so daß ein möglichst vielfältiger und anregender Austausch stattfindet, zu dem wir auch die Leser einladen wollen.

Außerdem schreibt Sven auch noch einen Blog!
Sven also started a blog. Don’t miss it. Yes, we are living in blogworld now!

The Splatter House

On our daily walk we pass an abandoned rugby field. It belongs to the primary school.
Luzie never wants to walk across the field. She prefers to walk along the street.
I said to her, “come on, don’t be so boring, you have to take a risk from time to time”.

She giggles and says, “when I’ll write a book about my life, I will write :My mothers idea of taking a risk is entering a field with a sign that says: Okkie Smuts School property. Enter at own risk.”

On this field is a rundown little building that used to be toilets or changing rooms at times when the field was still in use. It has two separate entrances.
Abandoned houses always look eerie and I’ve never been close to it. Today was the first time.
We looked through the broken windows.

The walls were splattered with blood. It looked as someone had been slaughtered, even more horrible than I had imagined. The strange thing was that the little drops were evenly spread all over the walls.

Sven said, “that’s not blood, it is birdshit”. He was right. On the windowsill I saw dried red berries. The birds were feeding on these berries which gave their shit the exact colour of dried blood.

All my Treasures

I don’t posses much. I moved so many times all over the world and never carried much. Everything we moved, we moved in suitcases. A lot of things had to stay, got lost or are buried in boxes in someone’s cellar.
There are only a few treasures that are valuable to me, and I know I can only keep those peaces that fit into a suitcase.

I love this postcard. I have it for a very long time. It always meant Heimat to me, the first years when I lived in Berlin and it still does. Even I am not from Switzerland, but I am from Bavaria and I grew up next to the mountains. Now I live close to the mountains again. Tiny mountains though. Compared to the Alps. The funny thing is, I didn’t get the joke for quite a time and when I realized it, I liked it even more. For those who don’t get it either: The mountain on the picture is the famous Matterhorn.

My husband brought these stones from Dyer Island, an Island where penguins live and bread under observation and protection of the nature conservation. No one is allowed to go there, but our friend Lauren is a Penguin Forscher and she took him one day. These stones are completely smooth, polished by penguin feet and asses for years.

This is a drawing of myself (not very flattering) by great artist Martin Kippenberger. He made it one night at the Paris Bar. My friend A. studied with him and every time he came to Berlin, he came to see Kippenberger. A. stayed at my place and therfore he took me to the Paris Bar oder Exil, where he met with K. The evenings where exciting but became quite ugly almost every time, when everybody was very drunk and K. ended up insulting people. Usually there were a lot of people around him. The night he made that drawing it was only us and B.
K. also made a drawing of B. and when he handed it over to him, B. couldn’t believe it and asked: Is this for me? Can I keep it?” As an answer K. took the picture, crumpled it into a ball, threw it away and said: “You Galeristen, all you think about is money”. B. immediately got on his knees and crouched under the table to get his picture.
I am still pondering on the meaning of the sentence he wrote on my drawing: “Frauen können weil sie wissen gut sein.” Women can be good because they know.

I will update my treasures on a regular basis on a specific my treasure site that you will find under pages on the sidebar.

Kinderzimmerkunst

If you touch this stick it will run

My GF lol (GF is short for girlfriend duuhh)

The champion