A former bakery shop in a village in Markgräflerland.
The shop window decoration on the left side changes every now and then as if a ghost lived there.
As if life still goes on.
As if the stuffed dolls danced around at night, in spite and laughed at the world outside from the inside of their cage.
As if they wanted to prove their existence for eternity.
As if they were waiting for the customers.
The flowers, artificial, never dying, fresh and blooming.
In adoration, refusing to say farewell.
One thousand tears in a shop window.

Anticipating the soft texture of the toast as the hand widen holding a blunt knife to cut the toast.
The previous colour of the café visible through the chipped paintwork.
The bare electrical wires, the danger.
Chairs waiting like representatives.
Cigarette butts on the footpath acting like silent witnesses of passer byes.
The depth of the entrance and the secret behind it.T
he shadow of a pillar like a sun dial.
The lonely meals and the blank faces of people at the table.
The sheer never ending row of people eating.
Hot tea in a cup.
Home and hometown.
Dunlaoghoire, Irland

A silent witness of love and strength.
My father’s teddy bear. My father sits inside of himself, forgetting and losing everything, in a chair alone and whispers continuously quiet prayer:
"Weary, I lie down to sleep,
Close my eyes and trust you’ll keep.
Lord, your loving, watchful eye
O’er this bed where now I lie.
From the sins that marred this day
Turn, O Lord, and look away
To the Cross by which your Son Rights the wrongs that I have done.
Family members everywhere,
Keep, O Lord, within your care.
Humankind of every race
Let your loving arms embrace.
To the grieving, grant your peace. Let the weeping find release.
Hold us firm, keep faith alive,
Till we all in heav’n arrive."
(Luise Hensel, 1876)

Germating acorn.

Planet of the apes, Castelnuovo di Garfagnana.

Forgotten apple from the tree of the kindergarten from the previous year.

The conversations. The silence. Closed home. Everything said.
Nothing more to tell!

Oakleaf from 2022. Found in 2023.

Faded peonies on a brass plate.

Annual honesty.

Skeletonized fly surrounded by spider webs.

Slowly crawl into the focus area.

Common daisy, pressed. Found by chance in an old poem book.

The beautiful harmony,
the peaceful order,
thoughts flying quietly side-by-side,
suddenly running amok quicker than the brain can fathom.
The unthinkable simply unfolding on a sunny day
or a moonlit night.
Perhaps early in the morning even, before getting up,
everything in ruins.
The child in your arms.