New Life

The Pleasure of so many little Things

Posted on 06/10/2026 by Andrea Eimke

Tiny details of life in a world full of wonders

Rummaging through my drawer, a black cord keeps me from closing it. I tug on it, and tied to a carabiner hook covered in green rust, a black funnel-shaped object appears with a lens at its narrow end. Its Bakelite body is missing a small triangular chip where the lens screws in, and the lens itself is chipped too. “Darn it!” I hear my father say as he bends down to pick it up from the floor. It is his jeweler’s loupe, which he used to touch up tiny imperfections left by dust particles on photos using a fine brush dipped in black or white ink.

I remember a day during summer vacation. I had been given a microscope for my birthday. While running through my aunt’s garden, I scrapped my knee. I ran into the house, curious to look at my blood. It was teeming with round red particles that moved!

Better not look at the dust on my desk, just in case it moves too… I lift the loupe and try looking through it toward my window. I move it closer and farther from my eyes until the inverted, tiny image of my village appears. That is how it reduces. I flip it over. At two centimeters, it enlarges the minuscule print on an instruction manual. Closing one eye, I hold the loupe in the other. I can’t see a thing until the object is about ten centimeters away.

I look at my finger, magnificently magnified. I am amazed by the landscape of fingerprint ridges and grooves. Did you know that papillary ridges are dotted with countless tiny pitted specks? I get close to my dog’s blue eyes. Around the black pupil, I see feathery strokes of sky blue, encircled by a soft bluish-white ring laced with delicate veins.

I laugh quietly to myself. I have completely forgotten what I was looking for in the drawer. Standing here with my father’s loupe, I realize it doesn’t matter anymore. For a moment, I am not just looking through a lens; I am looking through my father’s eyes at a world full of wonders, sharing the exact curiosity that made him pause and pay attention to the tiniest details of life. Without knowing it, this was what I needed to find all along.

Camino de Ronda

Posted on 06/10/202606/10/2026 by Andrea Eimke

I walk with firm steps. I breathe deeply, absorbing the green exuberance as my feet tread on roots, fallen branches, and small pieces of calcified coral. In places, the ground is covered in soft green moss, slippery at times where cascading water has polished the surface. Downhill, downhill I go—carefully at first, but gaining speed until I am running. I feel the breeze of my own motion caressing my face.

This winding coastal path is my favorite section. My walk follows a map painted with scents: aromatic carpets of dry leaves, the perfume of pine, the fragrant offering of Mediterranean herbs, crisp green freshness, and the salty air from the Great Blue that embraces my town. I inhale deeply. Energy fills me. I feel calera.

Visions at Dawn

Posted on 04/10/202604/10/2026 by Andrea Eimke

Come on, lazy bones, just get up! Go for a walk and enjoy the beauty of this new autumn day. In the dance of cool blue shadows, you can already sense winter drawing near. An aquamarine sky caresses its sapphire liquid lover, while in the distance, a lapis lazuli mountain range looks on, envying the beauty of their union. The blinding sun’s diamond reflections paint the palm fronds white. Let the still-mild air kiss the sleep from your eyes so you can witness the spectacle.

Because before you realize, darkness will descend. Like a black hole, the night will swallow the reddened dusk, wrapping you in the stillness of nothingness.

A few Loose Hours

Posted on 04/10/2026 by Andrea Eimke

A morning of strange Associatons

Last night‘s recordings sound as if I had been completely drunk. In reality, I had just been drunk on sleep.

This morning, however, waking up is a different story. My dog presses his face against mine and licks my nose—our sacred morning ritual. Inside my head, words are still fast asleep. “Coffee” is the very first one to clear the fog. I ask Alexa to turn on the news, needing to figure out what is happening in the world today. With a fresh mug and a yogurt in hand, I retreat straight back to bed.

On the radio, a reporter mentions that today is International Mother Language Day. The broadcast quickly shifts, making me wonder: is a new global conflict really looming over Europe? Then, the host introduces a word that describes me perfectly—tsundoku, the Japanese term for people who pile up unread books on their nightstands. Minutes later, a photo on Facebook catches my eye and lures me into the endless temptations of research.

But my drift is cut short. Wifi, my dog, urgently needs to pee and insists we get moving.

Outside, we cross paths with a couple wearing sunglasses. It is a windy, gray day; the sun is completely hidden. I can’t help but wonder: what exactly are they trying to hide?

Down by the water, chaos breaks out as a flock of seagulls relentlessly pursues one lucky bird that managed to catch a sardine. Only a solitary cormorant remains completely still, as if lost in meditation. Looking down, I notice the reflection of a railing stretching across the water. The stark black-and-white lines instantly evoke the striped uniforms of prisoners in Nazi concentration camps. What a curious association for a simple morning walk.

Later, I go out for lunch with an English friend. As I play last night’s recordings for her—now translating my dictation to English—she can’t help but laugh out loud.

And looking back at my day, I have to chuckle too. It is fascinating how the mind works in those quiet, unstructured hours between sleep and fully waking up. From the simple, chaotic greed of seagulls to the heavy weight of history reflected in a harbor railing, our brains constantly weave together a unique tapestry of the world. Perhaps that is the beauty of language, or simply learning to translate our thoughts: it forces us to stop, look closer, and find meaning—or a good laugh—in the most fleeting moments.

Creative Impasse

Posted on 04/10/202604/10/2026 by Andrea Eimke

Not much Science but some Fiction

A friend sent me the link to a Swiss painter’s website. I explore it with interest. I see oils, acrylics, three-dimensional works, and photographs.

Above all, her cyanotype prints captivate me. I submerge myself in a web of white lines: shiny filaments on a deep blue background. I pause to digest what I’ve seen. I look up toward the window in front of my desk, where a similar image surprises me. Above the whitewashed stone cubes of my town and the expanse of the cobalt sea extends, like a net of scars, a tangle of vapor trails that cross and lose themselves in the azure nothingness. Superimposed, an army of gray lenticular clouds evokes the silhouette of several UFOs.

To board one of them, I think, and fly to distant, ephemeral worlds—worlds that no longer exist anywhere but in my memory. To lose myself once again among the caresses of cotton fabrics and natural fibers. To let myself be carried away once more by the adventure of turning that delicate image into tangible matter. To create a space of dreams where reality vanishes on the threshold of the borderland, where the interstice transforms into a physical sensation of nothingness.

Ma, as the Japanese call it. For them, the space between things is not empty, but filled with energy: a force that moves you, inspires you, and lifts you up, like a flight inside a lenticular cloud. A possible interaction with the foreign, whether object, plant, animal, or human. Everything possesses a soul, a sensual promise, and deserves respect. The other, the unknown, is that which disquiets and at the same time fascinates; that which invites exploration. Is it not similar, perhaps, to being aboard that fictional alien ship?

I imagine black spheres descending on thin strings from that cloudy craft. As they draw near, the skeins unravel, turning into wavy filaments and shaping letters. They enter through my window and gather on my computer screen. As if holding hands, they weave sentences. I press a few keys to save this extraterrestrial text. What a rescue for a blocked writer!

Un pas més – Another Step…

Posted on 01/09/2017 by Andrea Eimke

…is the motto of the exhibition. And surely, for me this much appreciated challenge has been a step forward.

Going back to the beginning: newspaper as material. Cool!. How could I use it? It was clear that it would have to be “my way”, i.e. sewn lace. However paper is fragile. What to do about it?

I could print a newspaper extract onto fabric (left).I wanted it to be a meaningful text, though. Where would I find one in such a short time? And then, what to do with that text? Hmmm, somehow that wasn’t convincing.

The technical question was, how to stabilise paper? With iron-on interfacing (above).

Yes, this did work, however, where was the message? I could look for meaningful words. Which language should I use? German – my native language, English – a language I sometimes find easier to work in (!), Castellano – the country’s language, or Catalán – the regional language I am only just beginning to learn and love?

No! All the languages I speak, I decided. Then I went in search of international newspapers.

Many interesting articles later I had a good collection of words I could use. I arranged them so they’d transcend the confines of the frame (left). The words could be sewn (right)…

However, that turned out to be too labour-intensive for the short time period, so this will become a separate project to be continued…

In the end I found words that satisfied me and joined them with machine-sewn lace. I didn’t much like the frame and thought that the natural wood colour made it stand out too much. White paint was the answer. For weeks my workroom smelled of paint! However, it did the trick. I drilled holes in the frame to attach the lace with beads (right).

And, voilà, the work was finished. The title came easily: Between Wor(l)ds – my favourite space to be.

My work can be seen during the four days of the Festa Major (city festival) de Matadepera at the Casal de Cultura (culture centre) – between other interesting works of local artists who have also submitted to the challgenge of frame and newspaper. We have all done “un pas més” – another step.

Back on Track

Posted on 30/08/2017 by Andrea Eimke

During the time of transition from one side of the world to the other, from island to city life, from wife to widow, from full-time work to (semi-)retirement, I managed to create a wonderful circle of choice family members and friends in my new Spanish home town and nearby. To all these amazing people I owe my sanity.

Nearly two years had to pass before I was able to start creating again. I have adjusted to my much smaller workroom (above) and won new artist friends.

These encouraged me to join an art group in a neighbouring town, the Matadepera Col•lectiu d’Art, and participate in their art exhibition. All participants had to use a frame sponsored by the city council of Matadepera and newspaper in our works (left).

I’ve always wanted to work with text. This was a much welcome challenge. It finally broke my artist block.

Tomorrow will be the inauguration of our exhibition. I’m so excited! I will keep you posted…

Dust to Dust…

Posted on 28/01/2016 by Andrea Eimke

… Ashes to Ashes

Almost a year has passed since my last post on 9th February 2015. It has been a pivotal year in my life. Quite unexpectedly, in March my husband Juergen began his final journey to the other side of the world and eventually of life. For me, too, this meant leaving for good my beloved home island of Atiu. Circumstances forced us to forsake most of what had formed our daily life and identity for 31 years. In May, all arrangements were finished and I could follow Juergen to Germany to attend to his needs. In early July, I lost my loving partner of 35 happy years, Juergen Manske-Eimke.

Many friends in all corners of the world supported us during this arduous journey. I have no words to express my gratitude. The love of my Spanish “family”, whom I have known since childhood days, has kept me strong and positive. With their help I found a new abode in their delightful home town close to Barcelona in Spain, where I have now been living since August 2015.