It's been a year since I shot this in Berlin. We had such a great time and were fortunate to meet with friends from the U.S. and make new friends while there.
I miss the cold. The food. The public transportation. The beer. The museums. Getting up to go to the corner grocery to buy fresh bread. Poppyseed marzipan yogurt.
Did I mention the food?
For whatever reason, I really like this piece. Something about the artist not speaking in his 1st (or second) language makes him choose every word and mean it? The art itself? It's got a melancholy thing I really respond to.
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