Suddenly, you're adrift in a place that’s not your own. The air is different here—thinner, almost clinical—and everything around you feels like it’s waiting to be learned. A new house, a new neighborhood, unfamiliar turns that you must learn quickly. But as you move through these spaces, searching with the vague hope of discovery, you find instead the echoes of old habits. Familiar routines dressed in new clothes, set against a sky that is not yours—a less forgiving sky, perhaps, but one that has its own austere beauty.
A sky that can throw down snow, cast a cold, indifferent light, and whip up a wind that is neither warm nor biting, just gray. I find myself jotting down these thoughts as I drive down roads that feel more like sketches than finished lines. Objects—strange, iconic—appear in my path as if I willed them into existence. I don't seek them out; they reveal themselves to me, almost tauntingly, as I wander more slowly than ever, my mind drifting to thoughts of what might come next - thoughts of the future.
Zurich, 2024
Zurich, 2024
Zurich, 2024
Bern, 2024
Sins AG, 2024
Zurich, 2025
Zurich, 2024
Waedenswil ZH, 2025
Zurich, 2024
Muellheim TG, 2025
Andermatt UR, 2024
Oberbuchsiten SO, 2025
Laufen BL, 2025
Zurich, 2024
Daeniken SO, 2024
Tobel-Taegerschen TG, 2024
Brislach BL, 2025
Daeniken SO, 2024
Zollikon ZH, 2025
There is something arresting about a shape hidden in plain sight - familiar curves blurred, identity cloaked beneath fabric that clings like memory: a covered car. A steel beast built to move, to roar, to be seen, chooses instead to vanish - or so it seems. Draped in covers, the gesture of hiding becomes its own form of display. Like actors behind curtains or statues awaiting unveiling, silence only intensifies presence. The outline becomes more suggestive than the thing itself. What’s hidden is not absent - it’s amplified. You can almost always even name the make and the model.
A paradox unfolds, an iconic object reveals itself: concealment creates allure, stillness hums with potential, anonymity invites obsession, and some unknown mystery. In trying not to be noticed, the hidden becomes unforgettable, and beautiful.
Taegerwilen TG, 2024
Zurich, 2024
Neunforn TG, 2025
Berlingen TG, 2025
Schwyz SZ, 2024
Oberbuchsiten SO, 2025
Tobel TG, 2025
Berlingen TG , 2025
Breitenbach SO, 2025
Tobel TG, 2025
Maennedorf ZH, 2025
Fehraltorf ZH, 2024
Zurich, 2024
Brunnadern SG, 2025
Oerlikon ZH, 2024
Stein am Rhein SH, 2025
They are everywhere, iconinc in a sense, and most of the time we don’t pay attention to them. We stop, we fill up, we go. But if you slow down and really look, there’s something about them, just… quiet, ordinary strangeness. The kind that gets under your skin without you noticing. Some of them are barely hanging on. Family-run places with faded signage, others are more surreal—tiny oases glowing in the middle of nowhere, lit up like stage sets, empty except for the buzz of the neon and the distant hum of insects.
They’re supposed to be practical. A stop. A pause. But they end up being more than that. Maybe it’s because cars - again, cars, these strange extensions of ourselves. They need them, like animals that have to return to the river. Maybe it’s because so many things happen there that aren’t about gasoline at all. Arguments, confessions, quick snacks, moments of loneliness. In a sense, they’re the most human part of the road. And that makes them a bit haunting, or beautiful. Sometimes both.
Goldau SZ, 2024
Stein am Rhein SH, 2025
Pfyn TG, 2025
Herisau AR, 2025
Neuwilen TG, 2025
Kriens LU, 2025
Dagmersellen LU, 2025
Walterswil SO, 2024
Emmen LU, 2025
Zurich, 2024
Fischenthal ZH, 2025
Zurich, 2024
Taegerwilen TG, 2024
Kuessnacht ZH, 2024
Altstetten ZH, 2025
It was a strange time—not dramatic, just slightly out of sync, as if the days moved at a different rhythm and I was always half a step behind. I drifted through unfamiliar places without much urgency, drawn less by destinations than by whatever caught my eye and held it for reasons I didn’t fully understand. Again, there were shapes hidden beneath other shapes, softened by fabric, plastic, weather—outlines that suggested something more than they revealed. They didn’t seem abandoned, exactly, but not cared for either. Waiting, maybe. Or simply there, without needing to explain themselves.
The sky was often heavy, the colors muted in a way that made everything feel more honest, less staged. I started to notice a kind of calm in the stillness, not empty but steady, like something that had accepted its own quiet. I think I stayed close to that—not to figure it out, but just to walk beside it for a while.
Zurich, 2023
Zurich, 2023
Zurich, 2023
Zurich, 2023
Zurich, 2024
Zurich, 2024
Zurich, 2024
Schinznach-bad AG, 2024
Kuessnacht ZH, 2024
Gottlieben TG, 2024
Zurich, 2024
Zurich, 2023
Hinterrhein GR, 2024
Olten SO, 2024
Erlenbach ZH, 2025
Zurich, 2025
Zurich, 2024
Daeniken SO, 2024
Affoltern ZH, 2024
Mettmenstetten ZH, 2024
Neuwilen TG, 2025
Rhone glacier VS, 2024
Realp UR, 2024
Realp UR. 2024
St. Pelagiberg TG, 2025
Herisau AR, 2025
Zurich, 2024
Waedenswil ZH, 2025
Fischenthal ZH, 2025
Imperfect shots, often out of focus or caught in backlight, form a quiet resistance to the polished aesthetic of control. The accidental becomes intentional — a visual language shaped by instinct, interruption, and the unpredictability of light. A collection of iconic objects emerges, gathered not through deliberate pursuit but through slow movement and aimless wandering, whether along city streets or through the silence of the countryside. Familiar forms appear again and again, not as repetition but as ritual — fragments of a personal archaeology, elevated by their persistence. The result is a sequence of visions marked less by calm observation than by a subtle, underlying obsession — a compulsion to look, to hold, to preserve.
Zurich, 2023
Zurich, 2023
Zurich, 2024
Aarau AG, 2024
Altnau TG, 2025
Schlieren ZH, 2024
Schlieren ZH, 2025
Emmen LU, 2025
Emmen LU, 2025
Breitenbach SO, 2025
Altstetten ZH, 2023
Zurich, 2023
Lamperswil TG, 2024