In the twilight of the '90s, my foray into blogging began. Barely brushing against adolescence, I navigated an internet that was the digital equivalent of the wild wild west. My days were spent weaving through chatrooms and forums, swapping Geocities links, and exchanging MSN chat IDs. My personal website wasn't just a digital scrapbook; it was a canvas for experimenting with my first lines of code — an iframe here, a splash of colourful scrollbar there. Our conversations unfolded in lengthy guestbook entries, in hotmail email exchanges, and in the quick-fire exchanges of ICQ chats. Amidst the dial-up connections and the static of the modem, the world expanded and contracted simultaneously. I was catapulted into a virtual cosmos, discovering the intricacies of lives sprawled across the globe. In this expansive yet intimate digital landscape, I, a peculiar outsider with idiosyncrasies, found not just a niche but a community — a belonging.

The digital landscape evolved gradually, ushering in the era of Myspace, which broadened my horizons beyond my immediate circle. In the German-speaking regions, platforms like Uboot and Studi.vz emerged, fostering connections within more intimate circles and bridging friendships. This new era marked the beginning of countless connections; I met hundreds of individuals. The adventure took me on train rides to unknown cities and across town to meet-ups. My communication expanded from writing emails and letters to conversing with many over Skype. It was glorious.

The internet once harboured the essence of a communal gathering spot, a digital agora where minds met and ideas flowed freely. Yet, as time unfurled, this space transformed, increasingly feeling like an endless stream of advertisements. Every interaction, every corner of this vast network, now seems tinged with the ulterior motive of promotion — be it a product, a personal brand, or the latest sponsorship deal. The authentic spirit that once animated its corridors appears to have vacated, leaving behind a landscape where genuine connection and unfiltered expression seem relics of a bygone era.

Don't get me wrong here, I am not condemning the age of influencers as a whole, I've navigated that realm myself, back when amassing ten thousand followers was deemed a significant achievement. However, as the influencer landscape matured, the onslaught of corporate interest became overwhelming. Before I stepped back from the influencer life, there was a month I found myself inundated with over thirty PR packages — a figure that, by today's standards, may seem modest, but was considerable at the time. Among these was a memorable shipment of dairy-based energy drinks, the taste of which could only be likened to that of rotten feet.

Sharing my life online transitioned from an impulsive act to a calculated strategy, to what seemed like a boundless audience.

Over time, I became reluctant to share the small things of daily life, acutely conscious of the real-world implications of online visibility. Engagements on platforms like Twitter, especially on contentious issues such as sexism and reproductive rights, often spiralled into prolonged periods of harassment. Furthermore, my involvement with refugee aid in 2015 inadvertently placed me on the radar of neo-Nazi groups, leading to my name appearing on multiple watchlists. This evolution in sharing — or the lack thereof — reflected a growing awareness of the complexities and risks inherent in living a life online.

The transition of Twitter's ownership served as the catalyst for my departure from the platform, prompting a retreat to the seemingly safer confines of Instagram. Despite this shift, a palpable sense of loss lingered — the absence of a space to share the tapestry of my life, from the nuances of my creative process to the milestones of my work and the depth of my thoughts. This longing underscored the complex relationship I have with social media: a balancing act between seeking connection and safeguarding my peace.

So here I am, embarking on a journey to craft a website that again resonates as a modern-day scrapbook of my existence. The distinctions between work and personal life, once meticulously maintained, have blurred into irrelevance. This space is dedicated to everything I am not just willing but eager to share — a curated collection of moments, thoughts, and creations that together weave the narrative of my life. In this digital haven, I reclaim the joy of sharing, unhindered by the constraints and concerns that once governed my online presence.

What's the latest addition, you ask? I'm rolling out a /now page, a concept I plan to refresh monthly — a dedicated corner for the trivia of daily existence, achievements, discoveries, favourites, and beyond. For those not in the loop, the /now page movement was initiated by Derek Sivers as a means to communicate the ongoing chapters of one's life. This digital space serves as a direct line to what's presently capturing my attention, engaging my thoughts, and influencing my days, inviting you into the continuous narrative of my journey.

In addition to this, I've set myself a new challenge: to undertake a 365-day drawing journey. Drawing used to be a constant in my life, but over the past decade, it became sporadic. There were months where I didn't draw at all, followed by weeks of frenzied late-night sketching sessions. Now, I'm challenging myself to draw every day, seeking beauty in the mundane moments of life.

Furthermore, I've begun compiling resources to share, starting with a collection of type foundries. This is just the beginning, with plans to expand into a broader array of materials. My website is evolving into not just a personal archive but a hub of inspiration and shared knowledge.

I can't wrap my head around the fact that we're already through the first two months of the year. Dealing with a stubborn cold throughout January disrupted my typical routine of launching into the new year with vigour, setting fresh goals, and immersing myself in my usual productivity mode.

If you've been keeping up with my Instagram, you're probably aware that my UK trip didn't quite go according to plan. I did manage to wander around London a tad, but unfortunately, I was confined to my hotel bed for the duration of my stay in Edinburgh. Thankfully, I did squeeze in a visit to Fopp in London to pick up some new records, and I made a stop at Daunt Books for some fresh reading material. And, perhaps most importantly, I finally got to catch up with Stefan IRL again. Hashtag BFFtime.

In addition, January signalled the conclusion of my end-of-year sabbatical. Just to fill you in: for the past few years, I've typically worked straight through from January to October without much of a break, then taken a sabbatical from November to December. Mid-January saw my return to client work. I'm continuing my collaboration with Migros on their multi-brand design system and have also been in discussions with several potential clients about new projects. If you're currently seeking assistance with design systems or product design — let's talk!

some other things

  • i recently joined coffee & clay at fresh ceramics for my inaugural pottery class, and i absolutely adored it. they offer a monthly open studio pass, which i'm seriously considering snagging. making my own dishes? hell, yeah!
  • watched one day on netflix. i loved the book when it came out in 2009, and the series was just as enjoyable.
  • read six books in february. joan didion's the year of magical thinking and amal el-mohtar's this is how you lose the time war swiftly secured spots on my all-time favourite books list.
  • lately, it seems like i've been exclusively listening to belle & sebastian. not that i'm complaining here.
  • started doing weekly[ish] photo dumps over on instagram which turned out to be such a fun thing to do.
  • met up with some friends i hadn't seen in a while. life gets so busy and i've been using this as an excuse to not make enough time for my friends. it's something i'm determined to change.
  • installed new lamps and light bulbs in my flat and set them up to work with homekit. and i've learned that i can't help but thank siri for doing things for me.
  • and fuck, i've finally got this website out there! last summer, i dove into webflow headfirst, grappling with this new tool while crafting this website. i must've revamped it countless times — don't even ask! but hey, it's live now! there's

february bookmarks

  1. the year millennials aged out of the internet
  2. why we can't build better cities
  3. why i write – joan didion
  4. fieldwork's 122 roseneath street
  5. how our obsession with skin care made aging feel like a moral failure
  6. beyond reach: the exclusive world of hermés birkin bags & their cultural reign of prestige
  7. the age of average
  8. the myth of self improvement
  9. nobody knows what's happening online anymore

In 2023, I found myself fully embracing literature again. My aspirations were simple: to surrender to the allure of any book that whispered to me, immersing myself in the pleasure of reading, seeking a sanctuary where the cacophony of my mind could be silenced.

Here's the crux of it: I used to read all the time — whether nestled in bed with a steaming cuppa tea, amidst the hum of the subway, or lingering in cafes and eateries while awaiting companions. Books were my refuge, a sanctuary where my mind could both rest and roam freely. They were, unequivocally, my first and enduring love.

I've always been a voracious reader, though there were periods where I barely touched a book. Life's busyness or other interests would occasionally take precedence. Still, there wasn't a year that passed without me devouring at least a dozen books.

Then, I stumbled into a relationship that drained me of vitality, time, and, tragically, my sanity. It wasn't just reading that fell by the wayside; it was any semblance of joy. He usurped everything, leaving no room for solitude or personal pursuits. Even when miles apart, his grip remained tight, tethering me to the phone incessantly. And when he slept, oceans away, I found no solace in other activities. Exhaustion became my constant companion. But that's a tale for another time.

For nearly two years, I abandoned books, leaving an aching void in my soul. Yet, upon breaking free and rediscovering myself, I slowly rekindled my affair with literature. And read I did. Over the span of 14 months, I devoured 74 books. Therapy and heartfelt conversations with friends certainly played their part, but it was burying myself in books that truly led me back to myself.

In short: Take a plunge into the 57 books I devoured last year. And as an added treat — and with a hint of uncertainty regarding EU fair use laws — I even illustrated all their covers.