Time cannot be seen, yet it is present in the flow of change and transformation
Time shows everything more sharply
Time shapes everything more clearly
Time grinds ever more evenly
In the end, only the outlines remain when the other has been blurred
Or maybe there aren't even contours that shape me, hold me together, and I float out and become the void between the surfaces.

After all, everything is short moments, moments, reflections, or small stories, sketches, where we meet for a moment, woven together, into chapters. We tie the lives of these small glimpses into a long saga. We carry all opposites, both joy and sorrow, loneliness and community, wisdom and stupidity and try to balance and find harmony. We strive both for pattern, structure, rhythm and pulse, while at the same time we want to preserve freedom, chaos and impulses.

A fairy tale, a melody, a meeting, a passion has a pattern: an intro, a content, a climax, a stillness and a fresh start.