besitz und vertrieb > gefängnisstrafe ohne bewährung
25.07.2025 11:12 — 👍 6 🔁 0 💬 1 📌 0@benjaminjosef.bsky.social
dilettante de luxe “All human knowledge takes the form of interpretation.“ Walter Bendix Schoenflies Benjamin 15 07 1892 Berlin / 26 09 1940 Portbou dm me for inquiries about fine art prints
besitz und vertrieb > gefängnisstrafe ohne bewährung
25.07.2025 11:12 — 👍 6 🔁 0 💬 1 📌 0ich habe paris gelesen : )
24.07.2025 10:19 — 👍 2 🔁 0 💬 0 📌 0a carousel wrapped in veils, waiting in a deserted square. its music silenced, its horses unseen. behind it, old facades watch like quiet witnesses, their windows the eyes of another century. cobblestones stretch forward, heavy with the memory of countless steps, yet no foot disturbs their silence now. this is a portrait of potential, suspended: joy enclosed, time on pause. even the sky seems unsure. clouds gathering, dispersing, unable to decide whether to break or to hold. here, the carousel becomes a metaphor for longing: the longing for motion, for laughter, for the ordinary magic of turning in circles under an indifferent sky. we glimpse the fragility of human rituals, how easily they fold into stillness, and how in that stillness, they quietly endure, waiting to be called back to life.
- ordinary magic -
place saint-louis metz france
14 07 2025 13:23
in this image, time layers itself, the drawing recalls a world of rest and endurance, where camels and bedouins embody a rhythm older than history. yet it is not the figures that speak, but the interplay of shadow and light: a silent dialogue between presence and transience. the sun, filtered through leaves, becomes an echo, suggesting that all permanence is projection, and every image is a resting place for passing light.
- interplay -
home
21 06 2025 21:02
a table beneath jasmine and time, woven shade casting secrets in stripes. wind chimes speak in slow syllables, while quiet chairs wait for stories told over leaves and light.
- join me -
home
19 06 2025 13:07
a image of mine that reminds me of the deep yearning in caspar david friedrich’s ‘sehnsuchtslandschaften, where the visible is but a veil over the infinite. the jagged rocks rise from the sea like forgotten thoughts of the earth, solitary and eternal, bearing the weight of time. the silhouetted trees bent and reaching, evoke the tender asymmetry of a hasegawa tōhaku pine, their presence both framing and dissolving the scene. here, the horizon breathes a thin line where sky and water converse in whispers. the scene is not one of drama, but of quiet revelation. nature is not a backdrop for man’s striving, but a mirror to his interiority: longing, impermanence, acceptance. as in shinkei’s ink landscapes, mist and emptiness are as vital as form. the photograph resembles this: the open sea is a vastness that invites both melancholy and liberation. In the spirit of romanticism, the viewer is not outside this scene but absorbed by it. the rocks do not merely stand in the sea; they are metaphors of solitude and the sublime indifference of nature. the trees do not simply frame the image; they suggest the ephemeral nature of vision, the partiality of human grasp.
- fernweh und einkehr -
pizzolungo capri italy
28 04 2016 10:40
♥︎♡
08.06.2025 09:29 — 👍 2 🔁 0 💬 1 📌 0in the quiet veil, love whispers behind soft folds of fabric, a message rests: « love changes everything » its letters not shouted, but suspended, casting shadows that repeat themselves like memories or promises not yet broken. a small emblem, two hands meeting, anchors the words in the realm of gesture and grace, where touch becomes language and presence becomes vow.
- message to all the people -
robertson quay singapore
30 04 2025 21:12
originally posted on bluesky with the intention to vanish, i chose instead to let it remain, like a fleeting moment allowed to settle, quietly, into permanence.
19.05.2025 20:45 — 👍 9 🔁 0 💬 0 📌 0- scarlet -
gardens by the bay singapore
01 05 2025 14:56
alt:
two delicate flowers of cordia sebestena, also known as scarlet cordia or geiger tree, linger against a backdrop of textured leaves, their pale, crumpled petals softly catching the light.
in this image, time stands still; not in the sense that nothing changes, but in the way a rhythm, once found, continues without haste. the scene, framed in black and white, renders a modest corner of little india into something sacred: a continuity of gesture, of labor, of quiet presence. the man behind the counter, with his white cap and weathered hands, becomes more than a vendor, he is a custodian of memory. his actions are not merely economic but ritualistic, shaped by repetition and care. the chapati is not just food; it is the vessel of belonging, of story, of ancestral warmth folded into dough. what’s remarkable is not the nostalgia, but the persistence. in a city that constantly reinvents itself, this place remains unchanged, not by resistance, but by fidelity to something older than progress. perhaps it is fidelity to slowness, to touch, to the trust between strangers that forms over hot meals and worn counters. and so, returning here after fifteen years, you do not find the past, but a continuity, like a phrase that was never interrupted, merely paused until you were ready to listen again.
- fidelity of the everyday -
little india singapore
10 05 2025 19:53
a fleeting bloom for c
tender as a hush between words,
caught in the light just before it fades.
in the hush of tate britain, two human figures drift like opposing tides. one drawn into the room of turner’s storm of sail and smoke, the other anchored in the weight of plastic and days lived. a ghost fleet swells behind them, ships dissolving into sea-light and memory, brushstrokes unraveling history as if time were oil on canvas, fluid, fading. their backs to each other, they mirror disconnection, yet hold a silent symmetry in gesture, in pause, in being caught between past and passing. the floor beneath them is still, but the painting moves. and in that subtle motion, turner speaks through shadow and salt, as if to remind: we are all only passing through the frame.
- passing through the frame -
millbank london england
04 04 2025 15:06
♡
17.03.2025 10:21 — 👍 1 🔁 0 💬 1 📌 0this image captures the delicate contrast between fragility and permanence. a single tulip, its petals unfolding yet slightly withered, leans from a dark, rounded glass vessel. the vessel itself holds water, light and shadow, mirroring a distorted reality. the reflection hints at impermanence, a fleeting echo of the world outside, captured yet never held. it is a meditation on time …
- ephemeral echo -
home
09 03 2025 16:50
merci bien : )
04.03.2025 12:13 — 👍 1 🔁 0 💬 0 📌 0this is the first bloom I picked from my garden, a simple yet profound offering in a world that feels increasingly fragile. in times of devastation and uncertainty, i wanted to share something quiet, something gentle … a reminder that beauty still exists, even when chaos dominates the headlines. this flower, delicate yet resilient, grew despite everything, untouched by the weight of global conflict. in its soft petals, i see a small but powerful act of defiance against despair. by placing it in this vase, by capturing this moment, i am holding onto hope. i am reminding myself [and whoever may see this] that even in the darkest times, something beautiful can still take root and bloom.
- camellia japonica -
home
02 03 2025 12:09
in the moment of fading winter’s breath, a whisper of spring leans toward the light. soft tulips, blushing in muted tones, like dawn stretching its limbs after a long, cold night. their graceful stems reaching yet uncertain, as if hesitating between seasons, caught in the delicate liminality where warmth and frost still trade secrets. a vessel of glass, fragile yet steadfast, cradles their gentle longing, while shadows rest in quiet patience, knowing time will turn, and bloom will soon replace the hush of waiting.
- you can never hold back spring -
home
28 02 2025 16:56
♡
27.02.2025 20:35 — 👍 1 🔁 0 💬 0 📌 0♡ like heinrich tessenow [1856 - 1950]
25.02.2025 16:49 — 👍 1 🔁 0 💬 1 📌 0- porsche 904 -
most beautiful car ever
in the hushed solitude of the duomo di napoli, time lingers in quiet reverence. a single wooden desk and an empty chair rest upon the cold, checkered marble floor; silent witnesses to the passage of centuries, to prayers whispered and long forgotten. the air is thick with the weight of memory, the stone walls stained with history. to the left, a grand tomb stands adorned with cherubic figures, their frozen expressions caught between sorrow and serenity. they guard the slumber of the departed, their marble forms resisting the erosion of time. above them, remnants of a faded fresco cling to the wall like a distant echo of divine artistry, its colors muted, as though the past itself is dissolving into the present. light filters in through an unseen source, soft yet piercing, illuminating the rough textures of the ancient masonry. shadows stretch and contract, playing a silent symphony of light and darkness, presence and absence, the eternal dance of mortality. this space, at once sacred and abandoned, invites contemplation. it is a chamber of paradox; a resting place that speaks, a room empty yet full, a fragment of eternity where the living and the dead converse without words. here, one feels the weight of impermanence, the poetry of decay, and the quiet promise that, in the grand stillness of time, all things return to dust, yet never truly disappear.
- quiet reverence -
centro storico naples italy
03 05 2016 15:10
photo > naoya nakagawa
14.02.2025 20:00 — 👍 1 🔁 0 💬 1 📌 0her lips, crimson like autumn’s last kiss, mesmerizing, linger in my thoughts as i gaze at the solitary bloom. a tulip, fragile yet defiant, curved in a weary arc, its petals whispering secrets of still winter. nestled in a dark-glass vase, its stem stretches toward a distant light, yearning, longing … much like the gaze of the girl in my thoughts. shadows cling to the edges of the room, wrapping the moment in silent reverie. once, this flower stood proud, its head high, bathed in the warmth of an unseen sun. now, it bows; not in defeat, but in quiet acceptance. a beauty untouched by its wilting, a grace unbroken by its fall. the image of the girl is now fading in my thoughts … in that stillness, i realise … there is poetry even in fading …
- valentine -
home
14 02 2025 11:06
rip marianne faithfull ♥︎
30.01.2025 20:02 — 👍 17 🔁 0 💬 0 📌 0♡
20.01.2025 16:02 — 👍 2 🔁 0 💬 1 📌 0~ ♡ ~
19.01.2025 15:55 — 👍 1 🔁 0 💬 1 📌 0robbie basho ♡
19.01.2025 15:52 — 👍 1 🔁 0 💬 1 📌 0