And again I sit at a small forest river, which flows past me
very slowly like the lightly whispering wind. It is January and wintry cold.
In the reflection I sense the past autumn, still hidden in
old leaves. The snow puts on silver, like hair gaining age. And my photo builds
up layer by layer like a painted squeegee image.
And so my thoughts reflect the passage of time that takes
place before my eyes. A little stick in the middle of the photo is thereby my
anchor point. The water from the left half of the picture, which has not yet
reached the little stick in the center of the picture, symbolizes to me the flowing
in the future. Immediately however it reaches the present directly at the
little stick, in the here and now, where I am straight, in order to dive then
directly into the past and flow out of the picture. Hydrologically, water is
never lost, never gone. It can travel for thousands of years, and then pass by
again at the starting point. So in the past lies at the same time the future,
and thus also a new present. Blurred, like the passage of time, my photo traces
this phenomenon. The silent nature of liveliness harbors a constant process of
coming and going. And the leaves of autumn and the snow of winter will also go,
remove the layers of paint again, a new image will emerge in the stream of
coming and going, mixing and layering entirely new colors. Then I sit here again at the small river and
let my thoughts flow in the future, present and past completely in the balance
of nature.