Peter

Hi, everyone. You may have noticed I've basically been off of social media for a couple of weeks. That's because some pretty big things have happened in my life and I needed some time to process them and make some decisions.

Living the Bohemian life in Neckartal

Eleven days ago, my boss died. He had been fighting cancer for more than a year, but it still came as a surprise because he had been doing so much better, and ultimately it was pneumonia that got him.

The Studio

I am so grateful for the 2 years I got to spend working with him at the Studio, first as an intern and later as his camera assistant. He wasn't just a good photographer and filmmaker, he was a great person, and a great friend that I really needed during my otherwise disastrous time in Germany. I don't feel capable of expressing how much knowing him has meant to me.

What was waiting for me when I came back from America

It was an unlikely friendship. He was twenty years older than me. He was German, I'm American, he a man, I a woman. But we felt the same way about things. We both believed in Jesus, we believed in art, and in embracing life's small pleasures like chocolate and cake. We could talk together about important things, and just as happily sit in silence for hours, happy for each other's company.

Ice coffee, just because

I am so grateful that I got to spend his last two days with him at the hospital. The next-to-last day, he was able to speak to each of us clearly--a miracle, considering that he was on a double dose of morphine--which is something I will always treasure. His last day he basically didn't wake up, but he was still him, and I'm so glad I could be there.

A piece of art Peter and I made together

I think it's a testament to what kind of person he was that at one point his children and I were all sitting around his deathbed and just laughing as we recounted all the funny things he would say and do, the way he could make a story out of a few words and sound effects that would make you laugh so hard you couldn't breathe, the way he used to laugh himself until he would fall out of his chair.

Neckartal in winter

The day after he died, I went down to the studio to work, and broke down crying. This place that has been a haven for me, where he made me a space to work, where we spent countless mornings eating breakfast around the cozy fire, praying together, working together or separately, laughing, visiting with the neighbors who stopped by for coffee, a smoke, and sometimes Schnapps, and walking in the nearby woods along the Neckar River.

Breakfast at the Studio

Now it's hard to be there for more than a few hours at a time, as we slowly tie up loose ends and empty it out, piece by piece. The neighbors in the artist community come by to share memories, a hug, and a cry, to walk around and say goodbye to the place. And I pack up my stuff too, because there's no reason to stay in this country anymore.

The space that Peter made for me