Ever since my father died in 2025, my life has been turned upside down, but it seems to be slowly settling into a new form.

A few days after his funeral, I looked towards the edge of a nearby forest. A haze hung over the trees on that March day, in the river meadows where he was born in 1946. It was a tiny village then; it is a tiny village now.

An uncanny feeling came over me: that what I saw in the distance was Death’s cloak, and that the landscape and my own vision were merely its embroidery and stitching. That behind both the real and the perceived was Death.

The impression stayed with me. I have written it down several times and spoken about it, usually to people’s surprise.

It is also why I want to return to photography. Not to photograph Death, no, but perhaps to make a picture that makes another person feel something, that makes visible something which could not otherwise have been seen.

Quelle: Post auf Code & Canvas