We used to know
Sarah’s new Series. „We used to know“ is a series about a girl on a journey. A journey through herself.
She carries dreams she knows are worth protecting. Because the world is loud and fast and takes a lot without asking.
The series reminds of lightness. Of trust. Of knowing, the way kids know, that things can work out.
„We used to know“ is an invitation to stop for a moment and ask: what did I leave behind along the way? And what do I actually want back?
Who says I can’t? (SOLD)
When I was a kid, I had a dream. A big one. And somewhere along the way, the world got loud. Too loud. And the dream got quiet. I think a lot of us know that feeling. This piece came from a moment where I decided to stop listening to the noise. A little girl, an astronaut suit, and one question painted across the canvas: who says I can’t? She’s looking right at you. She’s not asking for permission. She’s just asking: do you still remember yours?
Encore une fois, Papa!
I think a lot of us had a dream that felt bigger than us when we were kids. Before we learned what was realistic. Before we learned how many reasons there are not to try.
This painting brought me back to those memories.
The girl wears a pilot helmet because she wants to fly. Every day she climbs the same hill and imagines herself soaring above the world. And every time someone spins her around until they can’t anymore, she gets a tiny glimpse of that feeling.
To the adult, it’s probably just a game.To her, it’s proof that maybe one day she really can.
As I painted this piece, I kept thinking about how powerful that is. The people who encouraged us often didn’t give us success. They gave us belief.
And sometimes belief is what changes everything.
You need it more than I do (SOLD)
Kids feel more than we think. We try to protect them, and that’s right. But there’s a moment, when they’re old enough, where pretending doesn’t help anyone anymore. This girl knows something is heavy. And instead of turning away, she holds out her superwoman doll. Quietly. Without making it a big thing. Not because she should carry his weight. But because she’s choosing to, with all the love in her small chest. That’s the moment I wanted to paint.
„Papa, écoute-moi“
People who are quiet often carry the greatest thoughts within them. And in this fast, loud world, we sometimes overlook that. When did you last truly listen?
The deepest ones fly the furthest.
Diving feels like flying. Every time. All weight gone. Everything still. And then comes the curiosity. To discover things that are barely reachable. Kids have that so unfiltered. Maybe they help us learn to fly again.
I see something you don't see
A reminder to believe in flying again. She sits on his shoulders, her hands over his eyes. Not to take away his sight — but to give him a different one. She still believes. In flying. In possibilities. In paths you don't always understand right away. While we grown-ups calculate and doubt, she simply lifts off. Maybe we don't always need to see more. Maybe we need to learn to see differently again. With the heart. With trust. With that childlike courage that says: Come, let me show you something.
Papa, can we trust? (SOLD)
As a child, you simply trust. No doubt. No questions. No fear. You hold your father's hand and believe the world is good. That people are honest. That promises mean what they say. Then you grow older. And suddenly trust is no longer a given. It becomes a decision. A risk. A weight. This image holds that moment. She still holds his hand. The kite still flies. But the question will come.
You need it more than I do.
Sono cresciuta con opportunità che non mi sono guadagnata.
Non tutti hanno questa fortuna. E ci penso più spesso di quanto ne parli.
Questa bambina non sono io. Ma porta con sé qualcosa di me.
Indossa vecchi occhiali da aviatore e il cielo dietro di lei non è luminoso.
Ha attraversato delle difficoltà.
Lo si vede nel suo sguardo.
Eppure continua a guardare verso l’alto.
L’ho dipinta perché questo tipo di coraggio silenzioso merita di essere visto.
Disponibile solo per un periodo limitato.
Acrilico, carboncino e tecnica mista su tela, 90 × 240 cm
I would talk.
There are moments when everything sits inside you. Words, thoughts, feelings — ready. You know exactly what you would say. How it would sound. What it would mean.
But you stay silent.
Not because you have nothing to say. But because you know no one is really listening.
I want to talk. (SOLD)
Wanna talk? (SOLD)
Hannah (SOLD)
Jimmy
In their eyes.
Some encounters change you without you realising it at first. A glance. A quiet moment side by side. An instant that burns itself into you and never lets go.
„In their eyes“ is a series about people I met along the way. In places all over the world I never expected to find myself. Somewhere between arriving and not yet knowing where to go next.
Different countries. Different languages. Different lives. And yet the same thing in every face — a story that deserves to be seen.
Lucas
Daniel (SOLD)
Tucan
Pedro
Yvens
Daniel
Jeremy
Fatima
George (SOLD)
Selbstportrait
Kids of Santa Marta
Broken
Jungle Girl
Layers (SOLD)
Fall.
Everyone falls. At some point. In some way.
The moment when the ground disappears beneath you. When you no longer know which way is up. When you simply fall — and there is nothing you can do about it.
This series is not an image of failure. It is an image of the journey.
Fall
Schallrückblick
She
The Walk with them (SOLD)
Landscape 1.0.
In their world
Ghana
Between two worlds
Ghana 2
The fog (SOLD)
My Forest (SOLD)
Citywalk
Dark Rush (SOLD)
Animals 1.0.
Fly (SOLD)
He's flying.
