a small funeral

installation


a night in july: air heavy and thick, the walls of mist moving and closing the claustrophobic into a nightmare. in the repressing whiteness, a swimmer loses direction. bewildered, hyperventilating. wading towards the shore that can never be reached.

i truly saw my unconscious in my photos only now.

july 2009.

mirror images and reaching for the self. or something of that kind.

yumi at sundown

wind in my hair i feel part of everywhere
hammerfest, 2009

in may.

cross my arms and turn to me

(i seldom crop images afterwards, but this 35mm shot just screamed to be re-framed. a perfectly unfocused picture because self-photography is not easy, but it delivers. and then again, why should a photograph be in focus. i have a feeling it's the softness that makes it unreachable. light and body.)

i'll throw you in the ocean

cross my heart and look into the sea

(almost) straight from the darkroom

you know in two minutes

self-portrait at 6am, june 2009.

i though about writing something about this photo but ended up with the feeling that unnecessary words just eat it away.

i see with my brain, not with my eyes
and feel with my body, not with my mind

you never know where her curiousity leads

a prelude

in some games all limits are defined and solid
but in some they clash and move endlessly