Rauschen (Noise)

“There's a hissing in my eyes, a flickering and jittering like a ventilation shaft, like holes in the roof, or like a train in the woods at dusk clattering down old tracks, between which the dandelion unflinchingly grows. Steadily and inexorably, it reaches toward the light; the white juice floods leaves and stem, and turns yellow like sunscreen on children's trousers and women's skirts when concerns have a second off. Spots of light on sheets hanging from clotheslines, light impossible to wash away, hardened by sun, blossom, juice, and stem, flowing liquid light. Just like on the sofa, which stood in the same place for thirty years and on which the window crossbar becomes more clearly visible every time I visit my mother: photographically spellbound on brown corduroy.” – Excerpt from the German-language book

Digital printing
11 × 17 cm
Edition of 60
Year: 2020