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

Between chaos and silence,where the brittle mind hums its slow collapse,there is a flutter—not quite movement, not quite stillness,a shiver of wings against the hollow breath of glass. A butterfly, or the memory of one,pressed against the scaffold of an unraveling dream,its delicate insistence a whisper:What were you before you became this?The lattice quivers. The light refracts.There is no ...

What a Fantastic Machine!

Die Filmemacher Axel Danielson und Maximilien Van Aertryck setzen sich in ihrem jüngsten Film mit der Besessenheit der Menschen auseinander, durch das Auge der Kamera auf die Welt zu blicken. Dabei beleuchten sie auch die in nur 200 Jahren zurückgelegte Entwicklung von der ersten Fotografie hin zur milliardenschweren Content-Industrie von heute. Die Kamera ist eine fantastische Maschine. Der ...
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 ...
A fine art photography print titled "The Sky Hides in Every Experience," featuring a dynamic flock of birds silhouetted against a warm-toned sky.

Der Himmel verbirgt sich in jeder Erfahrung

Es gibt eine stille Offenbarung in der Art und Weise, wie sich Leben entfaltet, eine unausgesprochene Wahrheit, die in das Gewebe jedes Augenblicks eingebettet ist. Der Himmel als Konzept wird oft ins Jenseits verbannt, eine ferne und unerreichbare Utopie jenseits des Schleiers der Existenz. Aber was, wenn er nicht jenseits von uns liegt? Was, wenn der Himmel kein Ort ist, den man erreichen ...

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 ...
© 1985-2025 marc wittenborn | all rights reserved | datenschutz | impressum