When Inspiration IS a Tired Child

Not every great idea begins in a moment of inspiration.

Some begin in the middle of a family holiday, surrounded by sighs, snacks and slightly too much culture.

This summer, in Berlin, I decided it was time to show my ten-year-old daughter one of my favourite places: Die Neue Nationalgalerie, home to 20th- and 21st-century art. It was raining — one of those steady, grey Berlin showers that turns the city into a blur of umbrellas and reflections. I was excited nonetheless: finally, a chance to share the beauty of modernism, light and space, and the kind of art that makes my own heart race.

She, however, was… less enthusiastic.

About halfway through the exhibition, she was clearly exhausted — too warm, too stimulated and only mildly interested in the stories I was trying to tell. We made it through the galleries, of course, but let’s just say it didn’t end up on her list of top holiday memories. And honestly, who could blame her? Berlin in July is intense, even when it rains.

Still, the moment stayed with me. On the U-Bahn ride back, I kept thinking about how easily curiosity can turn into fatigue — and how quickly something wonderful can feel distant if the story isn’t accessible.

That evening, back on the houseboat we were staying on along the Spree River, the rain was still falling softly against the windows. After dinner, as my daughter was getting ready for bed, I picked up my phone and opened ChatGPT. Out of curiosity, I typed in a few artefacts from the Neues Museum, where we planned to go next, and asked it to create a story — one written just for her. A small adventure featuring a curious girl exploring the museum at night, guided by the whispers of ancient objects.

Later, before bedtime, I read the story aloud to her.

As she listened, her whole expression changed — the fatigue replaced by wonder. She began asking questions, making connections, recognising the objects she wanted to find the next day. The museum had suddenly turned into a story world she could step into.

That was the moment when Saganauts truly began to take shape: a bridge between art and children’s imagination. Not about teaching or explaining, but about inviting them into a story that makes culture feel alive, personal and magical.

Sometimes ideas don’t come from success, but from the small failures that make you wonder, what if there’s another way?