Three images. One face. A story between breath and moment. In this emotional art series, I reveal what masks could not hide: hope, restlessness, silence. A triptych about feeling in uncertain times—honest, personal, intimate.

Life is like a cup of coffee that you accidentally spill on your pants. Life is like an improvised cooking show where you cook without recipes and hope that it tastes good in the end. Following your feelings is like a road trip without a navigation device—but there will definitely be adventures.

It has become quiet. There is hardly any street noise anymore; instead, you can hear the birds chirping a symphony. Add to that a blue sky and bright sunshine. At the same time, we wait for the numbers to explode and for the healthcare system, an important organ of society, to collapse. While waiting, we sometimes forget why we are waiting. Why we are working from home and suddenly have time for things we have been putting off all along. Why things are the way they are right now. A few seconds later, we remember the answer: because of the danger.

I know that you know what I cannot know. But I know what you cannot know. And I know that it is always like this and that this knowledge connects us.

I walk down the street that makes Berlin more beautiful in no time. At least, that's what I think. I think. But maybe not. Straight ahead, I follow a line, so to speak—in Linienstraße. How fitting. I think. Somewhere in the middle of Berlin. I walk on, past the place of silence. What do I mean by that? Those who have walked here know what I mean. Those who haven't been here won't know.