Without any further information, this photograph, is nothing but beautiful form. Black and white, almost symmetric, but not fully, the hair of the young girl opening like a curtain, showing a pretty, earnest looking face, the roundness of her head echoed by the shining buttons of her shirt. But then you will get the information,


my husband.   danait is 19 and comes from eritrea. now she lives here, in my posh little suburb. She is housed  in of the tin containers the authorities had put up and shares i a room of fourteen square meters  with five other women. she never says a bad word about of her roommates,

I want you to be.

image by Sibylle Fendt from „Gärtners Reise“ Life tells many stories, but most of them remain unheard. / His hand on her hand, she feels his touch. And the journey begins, wearing a summer hat, stopping for short breaks, tomatoes on the table, sun falling on her face, small clouds up in the sky and

Close your eyes and then, open them again.

Looking at photographs, we easily could get the impression that they tell us stories. Stories about life and death, stories about little moments and big events. Just by looking at photographs we travel to different continents, we look in the eyes of strangers, and see catastrophes and poverty. Photographs fulfill our need to follow up


The old lady in her wheelchair detected the little stone and asked me to pick it up for her. She  kept the stone in her hands for a while. Then she dropped it to the ground. Smooth little round stone, I found you in my pocket today.