Last Days of November
(Obsession)
Lunatic
Wie viele Male ertappe ich mich dabei, dass ich in den vergangenen Tagen doch nur einer Idee, einem Traum, anheimgefallen war. Dass ich mich von etwas tragen ließ, ja tragen lassen wollte, und nun doch einsehen muss, dass das, was ich da suchte oder von dem ich wenigstens glaubte es zu suchen, entweder gar nicht existiert, oder nur von zweifelhaftem Glanz ist. Und jetzt frage ich mich, ob mir mein seltsames Tun nicht ebenso zur Sucht geworden ist, wie wir alle nach etwas süchtig sind, das uns lenkt, und ablenkt, wo ich doch einst alles hatte anders machen wollen. Zerstreuung. Doch wovor fliehen wir eigentlich? Was ist es, welche Einsicht und Erkenntnis, die uns, scheinbar um jeden Preis, fernzubleiben hat. Dass wir sterben? Dass nichts von uns bleiben wird, vor allem wir selbst nicht?
[2020/11/12]
Sometimes I wonder which laws my own mind follows. A few weeks ago, I came back from a two-month long travel with nothing but landscape photography. I haven’t processed much of these photographs so far. I was restless afterwards, and first felt the need to get along with the changes which happened meanwhile back home. Soon after, I didn’t felt much, not even loneliness which I usually feel literally all the time. Then, I checked the weather forecast and left for another trip, this time a shorter one. I always had these places in mind, and knew that I “have” to visit and photograph them again, and again. These days and nights were pretty cold. I wandered around during daylight, and slept in the driver seat of my old car, as I usually do. If the light wasn’t pleasant, sometimes I cursed. If everything went fine, I felt great and remained silently in awe. Fortunately, there was great light, light which made me speechless while trying to do everything to capture it as good as possible. The other day, I took a few shots during dawn, drove to the next location, captured some iridescence, and drove on again. I was already exhausted, but something kept me going. I hiked up into this forest and climbed onto the rocks, being already familiar with this place. The tree-tops covered in fog, and frost. There was no question about it, I wanted to capture it as good as possible. I slipped once, at the very height of a rock, and probably could have died. I didn’t thought about it, and kept on going. Now, even knowing that I got some nice photographs, I still wonder how some of these places would look like with … maybe snow, or what-ever else. I don’t know, something keeps me going, searching for the unique, unknown. Maybe perfection? I guess, I am addicted. I never did anything else with the same passion as photography. And this is probably all due to my strange moods, and isolation loneliness brings with. At least, these moods give me the strength to keep going, and witnessing great moments in nature.
2020/11/28
