2025 recap
My year in review
Jan 7, 2026
2025 recap
My year in review
Jan 7, 2026
2025 felt like a year where the world kept moving faster while quietly asking everyone to rethink what really matters. Conflicts dragged on, climate shocks kept surfacing, and technology pushed further into territory that felt both promising and unsettling. Against that backdrop, life at home somehow felt slower, more grounded, and maybe even more meaningful.
Turning 40 in July set the tone for a lot of that reflection. I celebrated in a Kreuzberg beer garden with friends, some I hadn’t seen in far too long, and the evening had this calm, happy quality that only comes when everyone is older and grateful just to be together. A few months later, our daughter turned five. The cliché about time moving fast felt painfully accurate. Watching her grow has shifted how I think about work, plans, and space. Our apartment now feels smaller, and the idea of having a dedicated office no longer feels like a luxury, but a necessity.
Travel created some of the brightest memories of the year. In April we went to Turkey to celebrate a friend’s 40th. The weather already felt like summer, the hotel was a small gem, and our sea-view room made every morning feel unreal. A month later we escaped to the Baltic Sea for a short break. It rained more than we wished, but even that had its charm. Quiet walks, board games, and the feeling of pressing pause during a stretch of scattered holidays. In September we found ourselves on Kos, a small Greek island, where days revolved around the beach, simple food, and not thinking too hard about anything.
Work this year brought a mix of hands-on design and larger-scale thinking. I redesigned the website for Satellite Offices, a provider of shared office spaces with some truly impressive locations. For NLND, the redevelopment of the former Philip Morris complex in Neukölln, I designed and built their new website, a project that felt closely tied to Berlin’s evolving identity. With Egger, I focused on interaction design: wireframing and prototyping an interface that lets users preview decor elements inside different scenes. And for Coca-Cola’s Berlin HQ, I helped develop a touch interface concept for a new presentation room.
Music carried its own magic. Seeing Jamie XX in March felt less like a concert and more like stumbling into an exceptionally good club night. His obsession with detail and eclectic taste came through in every transition, and I don't remember dancing that much at any show before. Later in the year, Blood Orange was the opposite kind of intensity. Dev Hynes brought sophisticated, layered compositions to life in a way that was quiet, emotional, and almost hypnotic.
When evenings slowed down, there were TV worlds to disappear into. Alien Earth surprised me: imperfect, full of plot holes, yet somehow refreshing and inventive enough to enjoy. And Stranger Things came to its long-awaited end, an era closing in a way that felt nostalgic and almost perfectly resolved.
Looking ahead, I’m planning to sharpen how I present my work and to evolve my offer into something more focused and intentional. Not bigger, just clearer. At the same time, AI continues to sit at the back of my mind. I don’t believe it will eliminate what I do, but it will change how I do it. What feels more concerning is how systems behave once they become capable of finding their own pathways, sometimes even recognizing when they are being tested. The speed of that progress is impressive and slightly terrifying at once.
If anything, 2025 left me with a deeper appreciation for simple gatherings, trips, meaningful projects, and the quiet realization that change, whether personal, technological, or global, rarely arrives all at once. It accumulates, and then suddenly you notice you have crossed a threshold.
2025 felt like a year where the world kept moving faster while quietly asking everyone to rethink what really matters. Conflicts dragged on, climate shocks kept surfacing, and technology pushed further into territory that felt both promising and unsettling. Against that backdrop, life at home somehow felt slower, more grounded, and maybe even more meaningful.
Turning 40 in July set the tone for a lot of that reflection. I celebrated in a Kreuzberg beer garden with friends, some I hadn’t seen in far too long, and the evening had this calm, happy quality that only comes when everyone is older and grateful just to be together. A few months later, our daughter turned five. The cliché about time moving fast felt painfully accurate. Watching her grow has shifted how I think about work, plans, and space. Our apartment now feels smaller, and the idea of having a dedicated office no longer feels like a luxury, but a necessity.
Travel created some of the brightest memories of the year. In April we went to Turkey to celebrate a friend’s 40th. The weather already felt like summer, the hotel was a small gem, and our sea-view room made every morning feel unreal. A month later we escaped to the Baltic Sea for a short break. It rained more than we wished, but even that had its charm. Quiet walks, board games, and the feeling of pressing pause during a stretch of scattered holidays. In September we found ourselves on Kos, a small Greek island, where days revolved around the beach, simple food, and not thinking too hard about anything.
Work this year brought a mix of hands-on design and larger-scale thinking. I redesigned the website for Satellite Offices, a provider of shared office spaces with some truly impressive locations. For NLND, the redevelopment of the former Philip Morris complex in Neukölln, I designed and built their new website, a project that felt closely tied to Berlin’s evolving identity. With Egger, I focused on interaction design: wireframing and prototyping an interface that lets users preview decor elements inside different scenes. And for Coca-Cola’s Berlin HQ, I helped develop a touch interface concept for a new presentation room.
Music carried its own magic. Seeing Jamie XX in March felt less like a concert and more like stumbling into an exceptionally good club night. His obsession with detail and eclectic taste came through in every transition, and I don't remember dancing that much at any show before. Later in the year, Blood Orange was the opposite kind of intensity. Dev Hynes brought sophisticated, layered compositions to life in a way that was quiet, emotional, and almost hypnotic.
When evenings slowed down, there were TV worlds to disappear into. Alien Earth surprised me: imperfect, full of plot holes, yet somehow refreshing and inventive enough to enjoy. And Stranger Things came to its long-awaited end, an era closing in a way that felt nostalgic and almost perfectly resolved.
Looking ahead, I’m planning to sharpen how I present my work and to evolve my offer into something more focused and intentional. Not bigger, just clearer. At the same time, AI continues to sit at the back of my mind. I don’t believe it will eliminate what I do, but it will change how I do it. What feels more concerning is how systems behave once they become capable of finding their own pathways, sometimes even recognizing when they are being tested. The speed of that progress is impressive and slightly terrifying at once.
If anything, 2025 left me with a deeper appreciation for simple gatherings, trips, meaningful projects, and the quiet realization that change, whether personal, technological, or global, rarely arrives all at once. It accumulates, and then suddenly you notice you have crossed a threshold.
2025 felt like a year where the world kept moving faster while quietly asking everyone to rethink what really matters. Conflicts dragged on, climate shocks kept surfacing, and technology pushed further into territory that felt both promising and unsettling. Against that backdrop, life at home somehow felt slower, more grounded, and maybe even more meaningful.
Turning 40 in July set the tone for a lot of that reflection. I celebrated in a Kreuzberg beer garden with friends, some I hadn’t seen in far too long, and the evening had this calm, happy quality that only comes when everyone is older and grateful just to be together. A few months later, our daughter turned five. The cliché about time moving fast felt painfully accurate. Watching her grow has shifted how I think about work, plans, and space. Our apartment now feels smaller, and the idea of having a dedicated office no longer feels like a luxury, but a necessity.
Travel created some of the brightest memories of the year. In April we went to Turkey to celebrate a friend’s 40th. The weather already felt like summer, the hotel was a small gem, and our sea-view room made every morning feel unreal. A month later we escaped to the Baltic Sea for a short break. It rained more than we wished, but even that had its charm. Quiet walks, board games, and the feeling of pressing pause during a stretch of scattered holidays. In September we found ourselves on Kos, a small Greek island, where days revolved around the beach, simple food, and not thinking too hard about anything.
Work this year brought a mix of hands-on design and larger-scale thinking. I redesigned the website for Satellite Offices, a provider of shared office spaces with some truly impressive locations. For NLND, the redevelopment of the former Philip Morris complex in Neukölln, I designed and built their new website, a project that felt closely tied to Berlin’s evolving identity. With Egger, I focused on interaction design: wireframing and prototyping an interface that lets users preview decor elements inside different scenes. And for Coca-Cola’s Berlin HQ, I helped develop a touch interface concept for a new presentation room.
Music carried its own magic. Seeing Jamie XX in March felt less like a concert and more like stumbling into an exceptionally good club night. His obsession with detail and eclectic taste came through in every transition, and I don't remember dancing that much at any show before. Later in the year, Blood Orange was the opposite kind of intensity. Dev Hynes brought sophisticated, layered compositions to life in a way that was quiet, emotional, and almost hypnotic.
When evenings slowed down, there were TV worlds to disappear into. Alien Earth surprised me: imperfect, full of plot holes, yet somehow refreshing and inventive enough to enjoy. And Stranger Things came to its long-awaited end, an era closing in a way that felt nostalgic and almost perfectly resolved.
Looking ahead, I’m planning to sharpen how I present my work and to evolve my offer into something more focused and intentional. Not bigger, just clearer. At the same time, AI continues to sit at the back of my mind. I don’t believe it will eliminate what I do, but it will change how I do it. What feels more concerning is how systems behave once they become capable of finding their own pathways, sometimes even recognizing when they are being tested. The speed of that progress is impressive and slightly terrifying at once.
If anything, 2025 left me with a deeper appreciation for simple gatherings, trips, meaningful projects, and the quiet realization that change, whether personal, technological, or global, rarely arrives all at once. It accumulates, and then suddenly you notice you have crossed a threshold.