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Montag, 23. April 2018

Finding Reason




























































































































































There is a theory which states that if anyone ever discovers exactly what the Universe is for and why it is here, it will instantly disappear and be replaced by something even more bizarrere and inexplicable. My theory is that this has already happened. How else could one explain the weird, yet wonderful and random thing that life on this planet is most days. 
Life is melancholy and life is joy. It’s chaotic and peaceful. It’s full of meaning yet some days feel empty and pointless. Life is a whole dimension of color-pallets yet what seems to matter is the space between the perceptible. Life is intense and it is all kinds of moments, not just the happy ones. Even though the happy ones are like the cherry on top of this absurd swirl. 
In fact, wo don’t recognize the happiest moments of our lives as we are living them. It may well be that in a moment of joy we might truly believe that we are living that golden instant „now“, but whatever we say, in part of our hearts we still believe in the certainty of happier moments to come. Actually giving a moment value and purpose is something that happens in retrospect and with perspective.
This particular prospect has always been something that made me especially nostalgic caused by the feeling of not having enjoyed specific moments enough, not having lived them to the fullest. After all it’s in the nature of moments, that they pass away in a heartbeat. 
The only way to catch these little heartbeats of happiness are photographs and memories. Actually photographs are nothing more then preserved memories. That is what I like about them. Sometimes I wish that photographs were physical places you could crawl inside to go back. Hide in them and experience a perfect moment one more time. Unfortunately it’s this impossibility that makes moments so unique and perfect after all. They are beautiful, because they are transitory. Just like life. Just like us.
The universe is not made of atoms, it’s made stories, moments and the very tender membrane of emotions that’s stretched between us, that connects everything and everyone. 
So maybe that’s what everything is about. Not discovering the reason why, but being the reason. Being your own legitimation, that you do exist in this time a space, that you exist in this universe. How random and absurd and hopeless it may seem somedays.



photography by n.guan and me.