This is a continuation of "Is This Happening Right Now?" — part of an ongoing series about finding my way as an artist.
My Hamburg era was clearly coming to an end after seven years. I came for love and new opportunities, and I was ready to leave when a second relationship was on its last legs and more doors were closing than opening.
I think I've always believed in giving something a good go, enjoying it while you can, and moving on when there's clearly more struggle than benefit.
I just don't see the point in staying in something that clearly isn't beneficial anymore. Of course, it can take a while to come to that realisation, and in hindsight I often thought I could have moved on earlier…
I've had quite a few friends who didn't quite understand my urge to move on and experience something different and new.
I've been accused of running away from things, but quite frankly, you can't run away from yourself, no matter what, and nowadays I also think it's part of my nature. Although I crave stability and structure to some extent, I also love the freedom to fly from flower to flower like a butterfly.
I would say Hamburg was a colourful chapter in my life, full of experiments, trials and errors. Learning how to lean on creating from instinct, while at the same time not becoming captive to the Lecoq (physical theatre) approach alone.
When it became clearer and clearer that I didn't want to stay, I started watching Rosamunde Pilcher films.
Every German knows what they are… Very cliché romance stories, set in castles with lords and, more importantly, always filmed in Cornwall. Which was, for everyone, the best excuse to watch them in the first place. "Yes, of course the story is crap. But I'm watching it for the landscape!" "Of course!"
I had fallen in love with Cornwall ever since I travelled through it with my boyfriend on our way to Ireland, while I was still studying in Hildesheim, thinking: "Apart from Ireland, Cornwall is also a place I could imagine living in." I was about to spend half a year studying in Cork, as part of the Erasmus programme.
I concocted the following plan: I would rent out my flat for three months and drive my car to England. The rest I wanted to leave open, to see whether I would really end up in Cornwall.
The adventure was on! I was driving the Renault Clio that had once belonged to my beloved grandma, and for the first time in my life I took the ferry with the car on my own. I was so worried about the part where you drive onto the ferry… Turns out it's easy.
I stayed with a friend in Margate, and as fate would have it, another friend of mine, Sue, who lived close to the Buddhist centre in Ireland, called me and asked whether I'd like to join her in Cornwall. Her brother used to live in St. Ives, and she was visiting. Well, I didn't hesitate, and started making my way down. I made another stop in Totnes, where I got a vital tip for a possible place to stay in Cornwall. Thinking back, it was quite mad, because it was the middle of high season. Sue and I had a great time travelling around Cornwall together and discovering a lovely B&B — unplanned, of course, a last-minute find after we'd grown desperate enough.
I ended up staying with lovely Pam, her golden retriever Lily, and two cats who used to fight over my lap whenever I sat on the couch. Pam showed me a lot of places, I was introduced to gin and tonic, and I just had a great time.
Just as the three months were coming to an end, I discovered, in an online network for Cornwall, someone renting out their cottage for the winter.
I had a look on the last day and met Caro, my future landlady and, more importantly, a friend to this day.
When I was sitting with her at her beautiful wooden farmhouse table in the kitchen, drinking tea and talking about stone circles and art, I just knew instinctively that this was the right place. It was the sign I had been asking for.
I left Cornwall knowing that I had decided to make the leap: leaving Germany for good, the big city and much more…
From that point onwards, there would be a lot of sleepless nights: excitement mixed with fear of the unknown, as well as grieving the ending of an era.