The Story

Less Noise.
More Intention.

It didn't start with a plan. It started with a night. Berlin, 2013, Berghain. Somewhere between discipline and ecstasy, a question was born that never went away since: how do you live a life that becomes a work of art in itself?

David / The Geisha isn't a brand in the usual sense. It's a stance. An attempt to find what matters in a world of endless noise — and hold on to it. No trends. No quick answers. Just substance.

How I got my name

There was a time, early in the last decade, when we still threw costume parties in Berlin like something depended on it. Nothing half-hearted — real parties, real Berlin, wild and without a brake. A genuine attempt to become someone else for a night. Or maybe: to become a little more yourself for one.

For one of those parties, I wanted to go as a geisha. A friend owned a Gucci kimono that hung in his hallway — more art object than garment, really too precious to ever wear. I wore it anyway. I sat in front of the mirror for hours, layer after layer of makeup, wrapped myself in the fabric until none of it looked like a costume anymore. And then a taxi carried me through the city, as if that were the most natural thing in the world.

I got the name later, and not from myself. We were standing in Berghain, upstairs on the first floor, by the booth right before the darkroom, when a friend wanted to send me something on Instagram. I didn't have a profile back then — hard to imagine now, but that's how it was. No problem, he said, I'll just make you one — what should we call you? I couldn't think of anything on the spot. He could. David the Geisha, he typed, and that settled it.

I know I'm looking at this culture from the outside. I didn't grow up in it, and I don't claim to understand it the way someone who did would. I know the debate around cultural appropriation, and I don't wave it away. But this name never became a costume to me. It stayed because it expresses what it means to me — the fascination with discipline, with preserving tradition, with aesthetics in their purest form. A quiet bow to something I admire from a distance, and at the same time a reminder of the night it was born.

Sometimes I miss that time. But more than that, I'm glad it existed — and that I took something from it that stayed long after the parties were over. The name. And the memory of someone who climbed into a taxi in makeup and a borrowed kimono, and was nothing more than himself.

Two Pillars

Everything organizes around two areas that together form a whole. Inner Arts starts with the body — nutrition, movement, sleep, clarity. The foundation without which nothing else holds; this is where the focus lies. Space Arts widens the view to the room around us: how we live, which objects we gather around ourselves, the people who create them.

These two aren't separate categories but perspectives on the same idea: that every decision — what we eat, how we live — is both an aesthetic one and an ethical one. The inner work comes first; the space follows.

Mindfulness for every moment

The name "Moments" is a statement of intent. This isn't about some grand whole you eventually reach, but about the individual moments a life is made of. Everything is part of the path. Every moment deserves the same attention.

What's building here is a curated collection of these moments: observations, portraits, methods. Monthly, in the Geisha Letter. No excess — only what's chosen.

Berlin, since 2013. And the path continues.