Over the course of the last week I did some heavy rearranging in my home studio. I basically moved my huge desk to the window front so I can look at happy little clouds when I do photo or video editing. I’m much more flexible in placing and parking my background systems now and the overall shui fengs more flowy.
And for the first time in forever I dared to use the wall space above the short side of my desk to display some of my photos.
When I started what would become the Intravenus Project in 2016 I made an uneasy deal with my then-girlfriend. I got her blessing to work with nude models but I would keep my photography separate from our everyday life. Our families and friends could not know about it and I could only publish my work under an alias.
About a year or so before we split up we moved from a rather small place to a rental unit with nearly twice the space. It came with a pretty large workroom that I wanted to fashion into a personal space in which this part of my identity would finally have space to breathe.
It had a door that could be closed. Even with a room off-limits to the uninitiated there was more than enough space for having people over. In the end the room became both workroom and guest room. Because it would be unfair of me to keep all that space to myself A reasonable solution. That brought a dormant conflict to light.
Let me take you back to the place I grew up in. My late father had a rather old-fashioned hobby – breeding and racing pigeons. That may sound strange to you but where I am from it used to be a traditional sport with racing pigeons being the “racing horse of the little guy”.
I’m not sure what took up more space in our garden, my mother’s greenhouse and flower beds or my father’s pigeonry. Same inside the house. Some rooms were dominated by my mother’s photos and endless bookshelves. Some rooms were dominated by my father’s vintage pigeon clocks, awards and prizes.
Coming from that perspective our solution didn’t seem so reasonable after all. Without tangible need for such a limitation part of me would once again not find a home here.
So yeah. Now I look to my right and I see something that I am proud of. And that is kind of a big deal for me.