wordless 33

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Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world’s great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs. I am haunted by waters.
— Norman Maclean

Elena

Just some quick portraits I did of a friend of mine a few days ago.

Der Märchenonkel

I made some portraits of Matthias Richter, a journalist from germany who wrote a story about Jörgen Todenhöfer and his book Inside IS. You can read the article by Özlem Gezer here: Der Spiegel

Refugees on Sylt

Last month I did a small story about refugees on the german island of Sylt.

Hamburg Wilhelmsburg Bar

While working on the story about human trafficking in Hamburg, I came along this bar in Wilhelmsburg where all kinds of immigrants meet during night and day. They drink and laugh and sing and sleep there, waiting to get their own flat and a regular job.