i paint the garbage collectors. digging into daily life i find dignity and challenge what is valuable.

tethered to the streets of Berlin, i am less careless with my freedom.

i let wonder take me outside of the lines

i'm drawn to the garbage collectors on our streets. they work in full view but are somehow invisible. i wonder if an artist does a similar job. re-evaluates what's of worth for us.

stray  pieces of paper twirl down the street, people wouldn't be so careless if it were a bank note.

Karl-Marx strasse is filled with construction work and sweet tobacco from the shisha bars, passing foreign languages and mobile telephone shops. once again i swoon at Berlin.

should interactions on the street, or at work be viewed as a social transaction, be considered day to day purchases? What currency is traded in our community?