When the gaze slows down — focused through a lens we know — and falls upon what usually goes unnoticed.

A detail we overlook every day.

A ground we know.

And yet, through this focus, it appears strange, almost meaningful.

  

Demut 1 & Demut 2

It didn’t collect the plants.

It didn’t feel the doubt.

It didn’t tear the paper.

What is an imprint worth when everything can be reproduced?

What do we hold on to – and what simply dissolves?

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Felicitas Butt

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