Die Intime ("Intimate" photo essay)

 

Feeling the need to elevate. To break. To isolate. To intervene. To give. To let go. To return.

 

Every day is a question. A relationship. A doubt. Two incorrect answers.

A query. What is to project? What is to love? There´s an internal voice constantly whispering in my ears. It never rests. It persists. It insists.

 

And there will come a day when I will find myself wandering around somewhere and I will finally be able to calm that voice down.

 

And it’s then when I hear my own empowering voice. It’s giving up.  Creeping between action and stillness.

 

There we were.

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