“At the seaside, the sky is so wide and the clouds are so enourmous”, a friend once said. I am fascinated by this statement and let it inspire me every day. I live in the city, and if I gaze upon a wide room full of blue and white or shaded gray, my upward gaze is my daily break. In the middle of the never ending continuum of doing and thinking and heading somewhere, I take a breath, press the pause button, and look.
I like driving down the freeway, because often there is a wide view there as well and I can look at the clouds or at the colors the setting sun is painting on the sky. Some-times when the spectacle has been particularly beautiful, I took the next exit to the nearest service station, excited at the thought of taking a photo. But it always looks different from that angle: There are trees between me and the open space, or a power line is crossing the sky. Openness limited, simplicity gone.
I grew up at a lakeside. I experienced the water surface as a beautiful and space-giving surface in the undulating landscape. There was a lot of room, the light or the gray sky were mirrored on the lake. We would dive in swimming or measure the distance to the other side in a boat. Often though we would just lie back and stare into the sky, let the clouds go by silently.
I am interested in detecting the wideness and the colors, the density of the clouds and their lightness. I enjoy these small and often surprising breaks, and I enjoy shooting a photo. These images have been taken in the course of more than eight years. It’s a puzzle game of places and moments. I remember where I took each photo, at what time of day, what the situation was and what my mood was like. The upward gaze is a very simple experience fascinating me as much as ever. The sky is not only wide at the seaside.