Words

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Black and white portrait of a bald man with a beard and glasses, wearing a black shirt, looking thoughtfully to the side.

somewhere between form and freedom – A conversation with Maggowitsch Wittbronsky

What is more important – the finished work or the process? It’s not the finished work that matters, but the moment in which I recognize myself within. Art, for me, is not about reaching a goal but about following traces – working with open possibilities, get in contact with the unknown. It’s about those moments that touch something deep inside, that triggers something, that cannot be grasped. ...
Abstract reflection of golden lights in water, creating a dreamlike transition between sky and earth. The phrase "Take of is touch down" is inscribed.

Take of is touch down

Before self-love can liberate you, it is first of all extremely challenging.There is the anger at all those who have hurt you,when you didn’t know that you should ask for more appropriate treatment. There is anger at yourself for what you allowed to happen.There is the sadness for the lost time.There is the suffocating need to let go of people, things, ideas because there is no more ...
A luminous abstract figure resembling a human head, composed of intricate, glowing neural-like structures, with a butterfly resting on it. The image evokes themes of transformation, thought, and consciousness.

Chrysalis of Thought

Zwischen Chaos und Stille,wo der zerbrechliche Geist langsam den Geist aufgibt,da gibt’s ein Flattern nicht ganz Bewegung, nicht ganz Stillstand,ein leichtes Zittern von Flügeln gegen den leeren Atem aus Glas. Ein Schmetterling, oder die Erinnerung an einen,gefangen im Gerüst eines zerfallenden Traumssein zartes Bestehen ein Flüstern:Wer warst du eigentlich, bevor du so wurdest?Das Netz ...
Abstract fine art portrait with overlapping faces in expressive brushstrokes.

„Der Raum zwischen uns ist nie leer“.

Beobachtung der Spannung von Nähe und Distanz, einem Paradoxon, das die menschliche Interaktion bestimmt. Überlagerung von Intimität der Berührung erinnert daran, dass es bei der Verbindung darum geht, was sichtbar ist und was man dabei empfindet. Jede Interaktion trägt das Gewicht mehrerer Realitäten in sich – Deiner, meiner, unserer. Was wir in anderen wahrnehmen, wird durch unsere ...

Nebulon

ZERO-Point — not a word, but a breath suspended between presence and absence — ZERO-Point. Time softens, bends, collapses back into itself. Exhale the void. The pulse breathing — closer, closer — then disappears into nothing, only to return as everything. Breathing not as action but as being: a rhythm dissolving the borders between sound and silence, self and emptiness. No center, no ...

Basal

A spark snaps the void—a filament of madness weaving chaoscoiled in mirrored eyes. invisible veins hum riddles,snakes of light twisting backward,their hiss a code, a glitch, a hymn. It doesn’t blink.You can’t either.The universe pirouettes on a threadbare nerve,twitching toward in no direction Was it creation or a dare?And still, it spins, moves —wired, wild,untamed in its calculus Run, but ...

Resodissenz

Splinters the architecture of thought,where clocks bleed backwardand shadows forget their shape. Entropy wears a crown of vowels,blossom consonants into the void,on branches of collapsing opposites.air tastes of rusted symphonies,and touch flows into colorsthat never asked to be seen. Resodissenz:a chorus sung in fractured tongues,its melody stitched fromthe laughter of opening doorsits ...

Cascades

does not fall.remembers. A thread undone, a breath unspilled,a sound collapsingnot breaking, but becoming smthng new. grey echoes shatter in slow motion,spilling light into places unnamed,a tide that never reaches shore,a river that forgets the mouth that bore it. What is it to descend without landing?To dissolve without vanishing?To stretch without ever having been whole? Somewhere, between ...

Appreciate Flaws

The crack is where the light lingers,where the silence bends,where the thread unravels just enoughto let the hidden scapes slip through. Nothing perfect was ever real.Nothing flawless was ever free. A note stumbles, a rhythm fractures,light folds into itself—not broken, but honest,not lost, but finding. Chaos hums beneath the surface,the pulse of something inside,a truth too jagged to ...
Surreal art photograph of a human figure draped in flowing pleated fabric resembling a betta fish, set against a teal background.

Truth does not wait

Truth does not wait.Truth does not soften itself for you. Truth is the blade that asks nothing,the tide that does not turn.It will carve you open,pulling the breath out of your ribs,leave you standing in the hollowwhere suspected certainty once flourished. What will you exchange for knowing?The warmth of comfort, the illusion of stillness?Will you let it take your name,your shape, your ...
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