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I’ve deliberated on writing a post about Berlin – I wasn’t sure I wanted to because I find it difficult to quantify or do justice to. I hated it on arrival – ugly and soaked in rain and storms. Now it is favorite city so far.

My time in Berlin covered everything from tagging walls in an abandoned factory to gut-wrenching holocaust memorials.

I ate currywurst, visited an underground monster kabinett, wandered the streets of Kreuzburg, met some amazing people and created my own art.

Berlin is crazy/ beautiful. It has none of the gorgeous, history-drenched aesthetic of Paris or Prague. It is a functional city: gritty, urban – but with a clear subtext.

It’s history is everywhere – relics of horrors and terrors that have shaped its landscape and now cut through it like old scars.

They frame a city that is the most diverse and dynamic I’ve been too. A city that feels both so comfortable in its own skin and which continues to seek boundaries to push.

I can’t quite find the words for you Berlin – I’ve tried to capture you in images instead:

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