Lightness that bites – and cuteness as currency. In “Perpetual Cuteness Crisis,” the world of genetic engineering collides with the logic of late capitalism: In the high-security labs of BioDesign, Project ‘Eternal Cubs’ was meant to create the perfect pet – forever young, super-intelligent, and unconditionally loyal. The result? Puppies and kittens that not only fulfill every marketing fantasy, but also develop a surprising sense for evolutionary justice and corporate restructuring. Dr. Elena Weber, once the project lead, now finds herself performing tricks for her four-legged supervisors, who document her efforts for their viral social media channels. The boundaries between experiment and influencer dissolve, as the “Eternal Cubs” become both product and management, both mascot and master. What appears playful and irresistibly cute at first glance is, in truth, a satirical reflection on our hunger for perfection, the commodification of innocence, and the ethical gray zones of progress. The story unfolds in a world where button eyes quote Kafka, where eternal youth is a business model, and where even the most loyal puppy might one day optimize your job away. Visually, the novel oscillates between pop-cultural exuberance and surreal melancholy: glossy surfaces, vibrant colors, and a parade of creatures that are as adorable as they are unsettling. The narrative is fragmented, ironic, and full of empathy for the imperfect – a plea for the beauty of contradiction and the courage to question our own masks. Rooted in a values cosmos of authenticity, openness, irony, and empathy, “Perpetual Cuteness Crisis” invites us to look behind the shiny shells of our desires. It is a manifesto for diversity, for the unfinished, and for the playful as a counterweight to a world obsessed with control and clarity. Because sometimes, the truest things are those we hide behind a smile – or a pair of eternally cute eyes.

Born in 1975 in Heidelberg, a city rich in possibilities, yet one that confines by twenty. For over twenty-five years, I have shaped experiences as a strategist and designer – from the automotive industry and complex industrial applications to the cultural sphere. My deepest impulse has always been to pierce the veil of the purely functional, to unveil the essence – the soul – of undertakings, and thus to translate technology into a language that truly reaches people. An interlude: West Africa. Much dust, much light, much life – from Liberia through Sierra Leone to the Côte d’Ivoire, alongside my wife, who is always just quickly saving the world. Today, I commute between Pretoria and Berlin, a constant traveler between spheres. My art and my writings usually emerge when life becomes too heavy, or too light, to be left unaddressed. I collect fragments, masks, small escapes – and believe that what we conceal is sometimes the truest part of us. Many of my motifs are born from days when I would have preferred to hide. Instead, I gathered them, reassembled them, and imbued them with luster, irony, and color. My figures? They navigate the space between self-protection and openness, fragment and whole – and pose the question of how to keep one's sense of humor in a contradictory world. For me, art is not a destination, but a realm of possibility. A place where I translate the unfinished, the askew, the iridescent into images, texts, or collages. After a quarter-century in digital storytelling, now, on the cusp of fifty, I am venturing into the open: I am showing my own work. Incomplete, contradictory, sometimes offbeat – but always with the