Das erste Jahr Babybuddha jetzt auf:
oder über den Online-Buchhandel
We take pictures of our baby (like everyone), many pictures, it’s easy to take them, it doesn’t require any skill or artistry, it’s effortless, almost automatic. When we look at the pictures then, joy, pride, and happiness don’t exactly dissipate, but the pictures feel false to us, untrue. As if they were on the wrong side. We are unable to harmonize their multiplicity with the one image we carry inside us, an image which we nevertheless feel it would be inappropriate (vain and mistaken) to call singular. Maybe what we carry inside us is not an image, we think before grasping our baby under his arms, holding him in front of us and looking at him.