hier rust

There is an old cemetary in my neighborhood. I take walks there, returning for the quiet, the variety of trees, the slightly uncanny atmosphere. A walk on the cemetery grounds confronts me with mortality – my own, my loved ones’ – and that, somehow, offers solace.

Many of the gravestones, especially the older ones, bear inscriptions with natural elements. By holding paper against the stones and rubbing wax crayons over the paper, I transferred patterns, textures and letters. Symbols that ease grief, such as a butterfly for metamorphosis and a willow for rebirth, were detached from the cemetery and – on light, supple paper rather than heavy, solid stone – brought into a new context.

’Hier rust’ (here rests) are often the first words on a grave. English equivalents would be ‘here lies’ or ‘rest in peace’. I am moved by the use of nature as a way to cope with loss, as a way to give rest, to both the dead and the living.

wax crayons on washi paper
3 x 3 meter
2026