Do you belong, like me, to those people that cycle everywhere? Even in negative degrees? That moist their face with industrial strength grease so the head wind doesn’t burst the skin? When eventually getting to your destination, you tell everyone proudly but with a pain distorted face “you know, I cycled here”. (But they can’t tell who you are because you transformed into an icicle). Then these cartoons are for you! Hope your eye lashes aren’t frozen shut so you can look at them.
The wondrous effects of cycling in negative degrees:
Berlin is the new New York is the name of next weekend’s exhibition with my artwork!
If I can make it there, I’ll make it anywhere. Frank Sinatra famously sang in “New York, New York”. When I was a DJ, I prominently played the song at the end of the night to kick people out of the club. It’s a good song to hug each other when you can’t stand on your own. No matter how speech impaired, you can still shout the city’s name. It’s a good song to remind yourself “I’m not in New York. I’m in Buxtehude. I’m not making it there. But at least I can make it home now”. Good night.
Berlin versus New York
The other day I found the German version of the song’s famous quote. In a Berlin tourist shop I saw postcards, backpacks, mugs with the slogan: “If you can’t make it in Berlin, you won’t make it anywhere”. This is lived German pessimism versus American optimism. This is the German capital being humble at best. Focus on can’t. Try hard to not make it. At least then you know you never make it anywhere else. Besides, the level for “making it in Berlin” is so low already, it’s no accomplishment to make it out of bed at 3pm. Why reach for the stars if you can reach for dirt on the floor? Also, it’s not “I can make it anywhere”, it’s “You won’t make it anywhere”. I always had a problem with this German condescension.
I’m having a Cartoon Exhibition! Looking at and purchasing an authentic Wenzel is now possible. I’m showing my cartoons until Dec. 21st at Galerie 102 in Berlin! (Here: Potsdamer Str. 102, Berlin, Opening Hours: Sun-Thu 13-18 Uhr, Fr&Sa 15-20 Uhr.).
I’m displaying my “Neu in Berlin” cartoons. They are all inspired by my recent move to the capital. They are observations, one-liners and most of all stories, that are funny when you haven’t been there yourself. Like that horrendous apartment hunting, the big city sick dog life, artist survival strategies. I sold a few at the opening night, so if you’re interested in other editions, let me know here!
Besides, there are many other artists, who show their work there and it’s totally worth it. Come and see a broad palette of Berlin contemporary art!
My parents came to the vernissage!
My parents arrived at the exhibition JUST as a performance artist started screaming and throwing herself in front of their feet. Welcome to Berlin.
Afterwards, I took my retired elders to their first craft beer bar. We went to the über-hipster beer place BRLO, where we raised the average age by several nuances of beige.
They had their first craft beer tasting board and I now want to make a tv show out of it. With every beer came a tiny snack to enhance the beer aroma. Fermented garlic, toast with the dimension 1cm x 1cm, ONE piece of kale, fancy right! What does my dad do? He throws the snack INTO THE BEER. „Now it tastes better“, he said.
Definitely a save way to shock a hipster barkeeper. And material for my next cartoon!
You can purchase my cartoons here. And now, here are some pics from the exhibition (taken from my insta story):
I want a dog. For so many reasons. I love them. As a freelancer, I need a reason to go outside. And it’s more fun writing jokes at home with a dog audience sitting next to me. Also, my rent is so high and needs to be worthwhile, I want someone constantly inhabiting my flat, if person, dog or burglar.
I have a foster dog now. It’s basically like probation. You have them for a try out period. And at the end you have the option to purchase or leave them at a highway restaurant. I wrote down my first thoughts about my new doggo experiences and also jotted some dog illustrations:
Her race is called „Chinese Crested Powder Puff“, which sounds a bit like a far eastern fitness drink. How do I explain it… have you heard of the contest „the ugliest dog in the world“? Yup, it’s that one. They win every year. They’re like Russian figure skaters gold medalists. It’s not fair, they win every time. They’re just too ugly.
My dog has substantially more hair though, that covers up the contest winning face. When I got her, she didn’t have hair, she had dreadlocks. She didn’t live with a hippy but neglect. So I went to the dog salon. What a goofy place. There was so much hair flying around, enough to equip the next three Gucci collections with fur. At first, I didn’t see the hairdresser, until she appeared underneath the hair like a camouflage soldier.
„Just take away all the unhealthy hair. It doesn’t have to look good“, is what I said to her. Yeah and then two hours later I saw the dog. Having several thoughts on my mind. Maybe I should have told her to leave one dread lock, just one, for coolness. Do animals know they’re ugly? And lastly, where is the next ugliest dog contest, I might have a winner.
I walked the dog back home. One guy said „geez, does she have cancer?“. Yes it’s a cancer dog. Fresh from dog chemotherapy. Additionally, she’s a fearful dog. She’s scared of everything. Like those people that can’t watch scary movies and end up screaming at everything.
My dog is terrified of cars, bikes and air. Strangers look at her all shaky saying „awwww“. And then give me the look like I’m an animal abuser. That’s my sign to yell out „rescue dog, I saved her, worship me ok thanks.“ How one powerful sentence can make people believe you’re not an animal abuser but a saint! I see myself saying that everyday now, with or without dog.
So will I keep her? Not sure. I looked at so many dogs now. At the animal shelter, all dogs are either old, sick or on a cruiseship. But you know what I liked about the shelter? They don’t do false advertising! On the cages they have clearly written signs: „Bobby bites“, „Tyson humps everyone“, „Molly limps and will cause substantial cost and you’ll probably go bust“. There it is black and white. And it’s true. I get there, I get bitten. And I can’t complain about it.
The dogs don’t even try to show themselves from a good side. I thought: I’m their savior, holding the one rose that will determine their fate. And suddenly, the kennel is quiet. Bobby goes „I don’t bite. Never have. Never will. I don’t even bite my food. I just lick it. Lick, lick, look!“ Tyson claims he’s asexual, woof. And Molly jumps around „everything okay, I’m in topform. Ouch ouch, just kidding. Pick me pick me.“ It’s like dating, you lie until you’re a couple and can’t be abandoned at a highway restaurant.
To be continued…
*(I feel silly saying this, but some of this is satire. Just making sure. Okay bye)