A longing to escape reality is an inherent weakness of people born with the sign of Pisces.
Thus, from early childhood, I had a strong desire to travel far away. By nature, no place was too far or unfamiliar. After working for many years in the fashion industry, it seemed natural to see a side of life less glamorous and more real. I was fascinated by politics and history, as well as interested in Latin America – where my first trip as a photographer took me and captivated me for many years.
My numerous travels as a photographer gave me the possibility to learn about myself in a new unknown environment and at the same time escape my own reality, uncertainty and often strong doubts about myself. Only later in my career I was confronted with the question – ‘where do I fit in’, why did I pursue a project in the Americas and not one on my door steps in Germany or Washington. The answer is simple.
I was able to stay anonymous. I was able to make mistakes without being judged. I was able to communicate with people but never had to talk about myself. I rarely faced questions. And if I did…I had a generic answer. Till one moment not too long ago, when I realized that only honesty with myself would allow me to let go and move forward.
Wanderlust is a reflection of my life and a personal exploration of the Americas. Its comprehensiveness is limited. The images reflect where I have traveled, what I have seen, and what I have experienced. It shows my emotions and important moments during a time of change and loss, as well as the transformation and acceptance of my own personality. I often got lost in my own memories when I looked in the eyes of women and listened to their stories. The laughter of their children reflected the innocence of their youth and reminded me of the time when I grew up. Many of the homes I have visited resembled what I had seen on photographs from my parents and grandparents who lived, for a majority of their life, in a country destroyed by war. More than once I found my thoughts shifting to this past.
I am more interested in little things than the whole picture and often wander off the beaten path to discover the unexpected.
One day, it was bitter cold, and I was standing at the bank of the Yukon river, when my interest for the invisible grew. I wasn’t able to visual separate what I saw. Human shadows, snowflakes, the river in a distance, some dead animals, and even part of myself. I turned around and noticed that everything I just had seen in this little window, distorted and far away, suddenly was displaced and that the river in reality was only a couple of feet away. Once again, I turned around and looked at the same reflection, trying to separate the image. But it was impossible. It was a blur, pieced together by too many single images. Layer by layer melting together. I took my camera and pressed the shutter focusing at only one little spot. And here it was again, compressed to one single image. All an illusion.