Drawing and writing have always been the two pursuits coming most naturally to me. Like most kids, I drew my first pictures as soon as I was able to hold those crayons. And in primary school, I already filled the first notebooks with little fairy tales and other stories I’d made up. Later I also discovered my love for photography, poetry and the movies.

However, making a living as an artist always seemed out of the question. A dream, nothing more. So when I finished high school, I did the responsible and probably next best thing to becoming a writer: I studied German and English to later work as a high school teacher.

But that never felt quite like the right choice. I loved studying literature and linguistics, but later, at school, I always felt out of place, like an imposter. And in recent years, I’ve revisited those childhood dreams again and again. Excitement, disillusionment, sheer happiness and mind-numbing fear have been pulling me into their crazy dance ever since.

Finally I decided it was time to take a chance. Time to see if those battered wings of mine could still carry me. Time to see if, after all these years in a cage, I still remembered how to fly.

So this is me spreading my wings. If you’ve got any tips for me on how to improve my flying skills, please leave a comment. Of course, any word of encouragement is always welcome too. It might just be the push I need to make it across the next gorge of self-doubt opening in front of me. Thank you. 🙂

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