Restless, to drift and stroll,
searching to find his fill,
of varied space and novel thrill,
for tricky risks and wavering scenes,
lusty joy and raising misery.
Between a blossom of vanity, a rave of tranquilty.
Flying ahead, drifted through the air,
without purpose and scare,
an insuppressible flurry of vital signs.
– Stefanie Moshammer
See the review and interview on i-D Magazine.
2016 – The Body Politic, Gallery of Photography, Dublin / Ireland
Does it actually still exist, a pure young human being — an unspoiled mind — that doesn’t care about fitting into a civilized form?
When else can you lose and celebrate yourself, thinking the whole world revolves around you alone? The more grown up you become, the more you are forced to fit into a shape. As if there was a specific reason for you to exist, because ‘wasting’ time is not accepted in a world like ours. There is almost no space for emptiness that leads to some completely unknown conclusion.
Sometimes the future becomes a worry
and we all wish we were younger.