Wednesday, 13 October 2010


I’m a pen, an ordinary pen.
In a world of keyboards.
I have no illusions whatsoever.
I’m just a stinky normal pen seeking for a stinky normal paper.
Any ordinary paper.
A paper where I can ride, write and draw all over the sheet.
I don’t last long but then again I don’t need any space at all.
A pocket, a wallet, a tiny bin will suit me fine.
I’m just a pen.
But you can have me in the same second you want me.
In any normal, ordinary paper.
Would you be so kind and go find a paper for me?
Any paper at all.
An ordinary stinky paper.
A paper made of paper where words and draws made of ink will appear as if out of nowhere.
No, it’s no magic. I have ink inside of me, way too much ink inside of me.
If you find again the lust of using me you’ll just need to refill.
With just some normal, ordinary ink.
So easy, no enter, no tricks, no virus.
I have no illusions whatsoever.
I’m just a pen.
Would you lend me a piece of paper?
Any kind of paper.
A stinky normal, ordinary paper.
I’m just a pen who wants to draw.
Draw words, lines, curves and bullshit.
There’s no keyboard as free as me.
So easy, no enter, no tricks, no virus.
But no illusions whatsoever.
Would you give me a paper?
Would you play with me?
I’m just a pen.
A stinky normal pen seeking for a stinky normal paper.
Any ordinary paper…

Tuesday, 5 October 2010

"It's a new dawn. It's a new day. It's a new life. For me. And I'm feeling good."

So, a new path is chosen and I couldn't be happier.
Give birth to a shooting star that once launched will stuck shining in the firmament forever. Give birth to a lot of them.

Thursday, 23 September 2010


New crossroad. Again. This time probably the most important crossroad I will ever experience. Which path should I choose when the whole future seems to be at stake?
I had to choose many times before and if it was the right choices I will never know. But I always knew what to choose. Now what? It will be difficult when I seem not to even know which paths there are. The only thing I know for now is that I reached a new crossroad again. Probably the most important of them all.

Wednesday, 25 August 2010

questions I gave up questioning...

How did the first life form appear on Earth? If it came from space how and where did the first life form of the whole Universe appear?
How did the Universe appear? From where? And where is where?
Nothing is created, nothing is lost, everything is transforming. Meaning a never ending circle, where Earth was perhaps created somewhere in the middle. But in the middle of what if there's no beginning nor end?
Does infinity have an end? If so, what's beyond?
Isn't nothing already something just by being nothing?

Oh, I could go forever...

Wednesday, 11 August 2010

Fernando Pessoa

“Pessoa, whose name means ‘person’ in Portuguese, had three alter egos who wrote in styles completely different from his own. In fact Pessoa wrote under dozens of names, but Alberto Caeiro, Ricardo Reis and Álvaro de Campos were – their creator claimed – full-fledged individuals who wrote things that he himself would never or could never write. He dubbed them ‘heteronyms’ rather than pseudonyms, since they were not false names but “other names”, belonging to distinct literary personalities. Not only were their styles different; they thought differently, they had different religious and political views, different aesthetic sensibilities, different social temperaments. And each produced a large body of poetry. Álvaro de Campos and Ricardo Reis also signed dozens of pages of prose.“

Just a curiosity: between 72 (so far) Chevalier de Pas was the first known heteronym at the early age of six years old.

Fernando Pessoa’s geniality is too big to fill in only one poet.
He gives voice to every single part of his being. Every one of us has several different voices inside, You could even call them souls, but just a few can actually hear them. We pushed our voices to some drawer far back in our mind and stopped hearing them a long time ago. One of the many disadvantages of growing up.
Most of us though still keep around two to three voices. None is true or false, good or evil. That only happens in fairy tales. Our voices have all a mind of their own. They can be in peace or in conflict, subjective or objective, depending more or less on the mood or the path chosen that day. But normally we usually keep our voices to ourselves letting our personal thoughts and conflicts stay, well… personal.
Pessoa went further. He didn’t lose any voice on the way and more than that, he showed them all to the outer world. He materialized them through the writing.
Pessoa is one of a kind and when I’m reading him, it doesn’t mean I’m reading him. I might be reading Ricardo Reis and his odes, the impulsive Alberto Caeiro, Alvaro Campos or his semi-heteronym Bernardo Soares.
Even Fernando Pessoa is not Fernando Pessoa himself. The real poet is diffused in all of his heteronyms.
I myself like to read this or that one depending on my mood although I do have an ode of Ricardo Reis that I since ages still see as a maxim to follow.

“To be great, be whole: don’t exaggerate
Or leave out any part of you.
Be complete in each thing. Put all you are
Into the least of your acts.
So too in each lake, with its lofty life,
The whole moon shines.”

If you knew Pessoa you would know how incredible difficult it is to write about him in just a few sentences. For he’s not one but a bunch. His writings aren’t one style, but a bunch. His life is not only one, but a bunch. A bunch of poets, writers and philosophers in one person. How cool is that?!
Pessoa’s complexity goes beyond everything that people know from the world of books. Like so many artists, he was also only really discovered post mortem, had by the time of his death only one book published. And still today there are innumerous transcripts yet to be edited and discovered by avid readers.
Fernando Pessoa will however never be truly discovered for his geniality goes far beyond our own comprehension. And there lies the beauty of Pessoa. Who wants to know someone completely anyway? If so, whatever new is there to learn?
Me, trying to impersonate Pessoa.

Friday, 6 August 2010

I'm finding a way to understand you
I don't know if I can believe
My spirit is hiding out somewhere
Planting inside my true seed

I can't answer my soul
The real meaning of this all
Please, believe in what I'm saying
When I claim to me all your pain

Riding trough a nowhere road
Oppressing my deep being
Show me the blindness of the world
Dark minds that I have seen

Please, believe in what I'm saying
Run away from all that misery
I don't have nothing to gain
But your smile coming in easy

Thursday, 5 August 2010

The Allegory of the Ant - moral short story for kids

This is the story of a little ant that lives up high on the round Moon above us. She’s not the only one though, there’s a whole community of ants living up there. They all live on the bright side of the Moon with their lovely perfect little houses, with their lovely perfect white fences, and their lovely perfect gardens, surrounded by the most beautiful perfect flowers.

Yet this little ant of our story is quite different from all the others. Instead of having a neat sweet pleasant home she prefers to constantly travel around the Moon, from the dark side to the bright side in a never-ending circle.

The other little ants watch her from a distance, suspiciously whispering questions and doubts to one another. But our little ant doesn’t care and keeps on circulating the Moon on her own time.

Curiously, our little ant is far happier than any other ant. In fact, all other little ants don’t even know what happiness is. On the other way, neither they know what sadness is. They just live their days like plain, boring robots without any trace of any feeling at all.

Our little ant however felt sad many times already, and confused and disappointed and upset and hurt and was even seen enraged screaming against the winds. No, this little ant’s travels around the Moon aren’t easy at all; they’re full with adversities and obstacles that are hard to overcome. But she wouldn’t change it for all the galaxies.

Our little ant knows exactly what she wins with her odyssey, without resting or resigning. Because only by experiencing the dark side of the Moon can our little ant appreciate all the beauty and feel all the joy each time she arrives at the bright side of the Moon. Because only the ones who had experience sadness can really feel true happiness.

Taboo Game, what am I talking about?

John was the first to go crazy in the big green island above the Channel. This was the day when the dementia finally took over. That strange day when he sat at his desk staring at the monitor as if frozen in space and time.
John was seating since 9 in the morning, the lunchtime passed by and so did that nice good-looking girl that walked with a quiet hypnotising smile, in no rush, eyes straight, looking nowhere and into the infinitum. The evening was coming and he still had that same strange frozen look in his eyes overseeing the monitor in front.
This was the day when he finally lost it, snapped, freak out, went ballistic, berserk, ape and bananas. That strange day when he suddenly jumped of his desk and started pulling all the plugs of all computers at the office screaming about the doom of days. His colleagues were running all over like frightened rabbits while he was smashing one cubicle after another, armed with a keyboard in each hand. “We’re artificial, superficial, manufactured, fabricated, robots of the new apocalypse! The machines are taking over and you don’t even care!” – He was roaring. – My blood turned to bits and bytes. I feel my heart beeping! Beware, for the end is near!” Screams and running footsteps echoed throughout the building. Papers and colourful post-its were flying everywhere like some sort of rainbow of destruction.
Meanwhile, outside in the streets the word was that he was taking hostesses and had with him a machine gun in each hand and a bunch of munitions around his neck.
When every single person was thought safe outside he was still wandering in the hallways howling at the remains. That’s when a shy good-looking girl approached him slowly with the most beautiful quiet smile he’d ever see. That girl… She reached him a hand, he held it tight and started to walk. They walked past the door and past the crowd, in no rush, hand in hand, quiet smiles, eyes straight, looking nowhere and into the infinitum. And then everything went black.

The next day they woke up in a hospice medical centre where they, with big frozen eyes, fevered together for a whole year.
When they left the centre they saw outside a different world than the one they once knew. The multiple cars, the red buses and black cabs drove align one after the other, parking, stopping, starting, moving, barely making noise, as if it was some kind of coordinated choreography thought till the smallest detail. The pedestrians too walked silently, one after another, in no rush, quiet smile, eyes straight, looking nowhere and into the infinitum.
This was a new sterile and contained world and yet they could feel a tension growing in the air they could hardly bear. So, before everyone and everything could start to snap as he once did too, he held her hand and walked away as far as possible. Away from that strange crazy virus that came through our every day food and affected brains and sanity all over our big fat island, which is now infested with green aliens ready to drink our blood and eat our brains. Excuse me, I have to go feed my feet and grab some crap. See you yesterday!

Saturday, 26 June 2010

To cook or not to cook

I would love to know how to cook. I know so many people who not only know how to cook but also have such a patience and pleasure by doing it.
If it was for my mother we would all just take food substitute pills like in the science fiction movies. Not me though, I do love to eat and taste all different flavors and textures, experiencing new and delighting with old. I'm definitely a foodie, sort of a food bon vivant in small doses.
The problem is, I only remember food when I'm hungry. I admire all those who plan the next meal hours before or even days before. How do they do that? And I'm not talking about feeding a family or dinner parties, picnics and others of the kind.
(While writing this I just remembered all the crazy parties at my parent's house when my friends and I started the nights with well poured dinners.)
Where normally the guys are the best cooks I can consider myself a great assistant. At least that. I got used to it with pretty much all of my ex-boyfriends, great cooks they were and still are. Yes I know, I was lucky.
It was a lot of fun back then in those legendary never-ending summer parties! Cooking with friends is a celebration of food while cooking to eat is an essential need. It sure changes the whole perspective, doesn't it?
I definitely need to review my eating behavior. It's a real bummer that every single time I do think about food I'm starting to faint and ready to eat the first thing that comes near my mouth, as long it's vegetarian of course. Which by no means represents health food. And I know that well. Even more now living in a new city with new habits. Again.

Friday, 21 May 2010

I ♥ NY

Here I am in the Big Apple. Didn’t see that coming… almost.
It is impossible not to fall in love the first second you see her. And even if I’m known for falling in love quickly with new far away places this time it could really happen with anybody and it does.
Do you know any person at all in his right mind that knows NYC and doesn’t like her? Exactly my point. So it is not that hard for others to comprehend. I myself knew before ever touching this ground that I would love the city unconditionally.
I surrender dear New York with all my dreams and thoughts, I surrender to you eager of all that you have to give and teach me.
I’m yours as long as you have me.

Moved on 30 March 2010

Friday, 19 February 2010

My cool stripes

My stripes and I. Just two, not three, I never know so I had to look again to be sure. I’m proud of my stripes. They were my first tattoo and the most difficult to do too.
In order to get them I had to drive my motorcycle on a raining night in a roundabout. Drove so that the rear tire went directly into the worst point of a pretty flat water hole where she finally lost control. Then I targeted my bike so that I could hit the small step of the pedestrians walk. Throw my helmet away and flew through the walk side made of asphalt with millions of small spiky stones with my left hand and all the right side of my face. What a rush!
Back on my feet, I tried to turn the bike on again but she didn’t want to. So I parked her the best I could and walked around 2 kilometres on a really steep road.
I didn’t notice anything strange, I was in shock-survival mode. When I arrived at my boyfriend’s house I rang the bell and… everything went black. Amazing how much our strength limits overwork to survive.
Only two days after could I see myself on a mirror. Did I say myself? I never ever have seen before such an awful monster like this one trying to stare at me over one eye. And I swear I didn’t say Bloody Mary three times, not even once! All was swallow, a huge mess of strange bumps, totally unrecognisable. After the swallows got away the right side of my face looked a bit like Freddy Krüger, only much much worse, so I named myself, back then, Penny Krüger. It was crazy to see the whole skin's rebirth, from transparent holes to baby pink, and miraculously back to normal.
Now, when we talk about it we regret never had taken any photos. But then again, we were more preoccupied on getting my face back, which was easier than any doctor thought. I was young, strong, a real sports girl so it cured so fast and good that all it was left behind was these stripes made by a few stones that were, as it seems, spikier than the others.
It was a really hard job to do this tattoo - oh, it even rhymes!
But at the end it turned pretty well: they say scars show that someone truly lives, you know. Oops, I meant tattoos of course.

Thursday, 18 February 2010

What and how is a word?

Words. We use words every day, we speak them, we hear them, we read them and we write them. They fill our surroundings completely.
But what is a word? A word can mean an object, a colour, a thought, a feeling, an everything…
We couldn’t even conceive a world without words.

Every new day new words are born.
Words are defined and the sum of definition is human knowledge. Existing definitions are then questioned and new knowledge is formed by answers in a constant chain.
Words as they are belong so much in our daily life that it would be impossible to name yellow to the colour blue. Could you imagine naming joy to sadness? Or hate to love?
A word sustains its own meaning.

The printed word still fascinates many, I as one among them. It transcends our boundaries of imagination beyond these same words.
The printed word in all its forms - newspapers, magazines, billboards, posters and of course books - is a powerful media. Reading on computers or phones or whatever is greatly increasing in this rather ephemeral digital era but it cannot yet replace the immutable experience of reading words printed on paper.

I myself am writing this small essay on a digital notebook but desiring immensely to just let me drown in the words of a magnificent book.
Don’t neglect your printed education. It is indeed an amazing experience as it always will be.

Word by word into a phrase, phrase by phrase into a world.

5 things I hate, 5 things I love

I love the ocean. The sea with his white curly waves breaking in the soft sand. Love his melody… smooth or rough. Love his strength, his never ending phases… the feel of infinitum.

I hate migraines. I hate migraines that don’t allow me to thing straight, to see straight, to hear straight, to even feel straight.

I love children. Their innocence, their constant questions, their curious big eyes, their naïve believes. I love their unwritten future, the “impossible is nothing” feeling.

I hate hypocrisy as one of the major sins of the human kind. Arrogance. Falseness. This ridiculous sootiness. It's like people forget we’re just a tiny particle in this vast universe, that we’re nothing more than dust in the wind.

I love the truth, clear and bright… like the music that feeds my ever-growing thirst, deep in my soul.

I hate sauerkraut.

I love the animals for staying true to themselves, being able to live with nature in perfect harmony, being a part of Mother Nature.

I hate us, humans. For living above this same nature, destroying instead of nurturing, fighting with each other since the dawn of days.

I love us, humans. For our compassion and passion, our art and creation, our think and feel… our love.

All in one, I hate to hate, love to love.


Although I totally hate labels and try to see every person as a single individual there is still, how could I call it, different groups where similar type of persons fit.
So here I am who never wanted to judge nothing and no one and what I am doing now? Judging.
Maybe they don’t even exist, ‘cause every label you put on someone is totally subjective, ‘cause a person is always a person, extremely complex, with a past, a present, a possible future, with a whole world around him, family, friends, colleagues, neighbors, the milk man and the taxi driver.
My topic, this so-called label I’m speaking about is the yuppie.
It makes me laugh inside when I see how they try so hard to seem confident when walking with their suitcases and their copied piece by piece clothing style of their boss, or their mentor, or their men’s magazine. They are so easy to find within a crowd. Head way up, every single detail thousand times checked. They look like they could rule the world but at the same time they’re shitting on their pants.
The yuppie is not quite bright, actually a small dumb. Don’t ever ask him any, let’s say… more profound questions. It’s really easy to know what he’s thinking, because in his head there’s only place for one thing: power or money, call it what you want. That’s why he is a great businessman and a damn top opportunist.
And in this fucked up world these yuppies that climb the ladder by stealing and walking over others with no sign of regret or a soul for that matter, are actually the ones who reach the last floor.
So is up to you, save your soul, stay in the background where real things happen, where real ideas grow, where you forever struggle climbing further the knowledge pyramid or…
Stay shallow, keep to you all the credits from others, reach that last floor, no need to think over there, and maybe one day, just maybe… you can all jump over your big phat window as the greatest dumbass team of all times.
And, who knows… without all these yuppies out there maybe the world will finally start to be a better place. It’s just an Utopia, but we can dream, right?

Saturday, 6 February 2010

chill out

The expectations are huge and some times I get overwhelmed by all of this. Fear of failing, fear that it won’t pay at the end. Even when my self-confidence increased greatly in this new year. And I can see the fruits of it already.
There’s a crisis out there that doesn’t seem to end soon. And I’m not getting any younger, right? I know I have to free myself, don’t be so uptight and wanting too badly to be perfectionist in all chores. I’m just human.
When I’m laid-back I work much better. Ideas flow loosely without that mental pressure. So girl, just chill out and everything will be just fine. You’re blessed with an amazing family that’s always there for you in your long unconventional journey. They will always be your anchor, your harbor.
It’s not an easy road I’m taking but it is my own adventure.
Just keep following your path as good as you can… but relaxed.
After all it’s just advertising. It’s not like we’re trying to save the world.

Tuesday, 2 February 2010

I wanna walk like a penguin over the big Alster Lake.

It’s still snowing here in Hamburg. The big Alster Lake is frozen and I want to walk over it since two weeks already. I see so many photos in the internet of happy faces walking like penguins with Glühwein in their hands and ask myself: will I manage to go there before the global warming attacks?
Global warming… it will probably come only by the time of our great-great-grandchildren – not that I’m complaining – but till there the winters are just getting dramatically colder by the year.
It is so new strange for me to see a whole month of uninterrupted snow falling and seagulls flying everywhere. I’m a child of the sea and I’m used to experience real snow only on the mountains.
This is a harbour city, we have 2 seas nearby, north and east, and all this snow is pretty surprising for all Hamburgers. The Alster wasn’t frozen since more than 15 years.
Damn, I have to go there, it’s imperative that I go there! You never know, maybe the global warming does come sooner than expected.

Sunday, 17 January 2010

First Resolution

Aloha digital "Brave New World"!
I really should start writing my thoughts and nonsenses here. I have this blog for a time already but it stayed empty till, well, now.
First resolution for 2010: write a few words in the "digital way" at least one time every week.
I'm studying at Miami Ad School Europe in Hamburg Germany for a while now and I have to say, I never felt so light and free of bad energy. The new year couldn't start better!
It wasn't easy last year, not easy at all. Not because of all the work, which is really overwhelming but the atmosphere in our class was some strange twilight kind of thing. In all my life of study I never experienced something like that. And not because of the people or everyone in particular, it was this combination that just didn't work out... It was like we had constantly a black cloud over our heads, cursing us... Boo! I know, it sounds crazy, but I can't find any better way to explain this.
Well, now that I'm doing another program, I have all these different new people whom I'm so excited to know and work with.
The workflow is so much better when you feel this free. And looking forward to going to class like in the good old days?... What a wonderful feeling!!!
Happy New Year!