In recent months, as I returned to my archives and revisited certain series I once considered finished, an obvious realization emerged: my work does not lend itself to closed, self-contained entities.

You might think Todtnauberg is just a photo series. An aesthetic proposition among others. That would be a mistake. Todtnauberg grows out of a deep unease: what History has left behind in our landscapes, our families, our habits of seeing.

In an age dominated by assertive, spectacular images, this essay calls for a different kind of photography — one rooted in uncertainty, silence, and perception. Against the authoritarian logic of the master-image, it explores a phenomenological approach that resists capture and reclaims the act of seeing.

This is how I work—through resonances, through subtle shifts. Only later does the whole begin to take shape, a title emerges, a sense begins to surface. I move slowly, guided by intuition, inner echoes, traces left by the world.

Heidegger said that man dwells poetically in the world. It is a phrase that invites us to slow down, to listen to the silence of things, to see the detail that escapes us. Perhaps photography is the ideal tool for this: an art of capture that does not confine but reveals.