Raven

„Flirting echoes of the past“

What you see in the images isn’t a story to be told, but a quiet exploration of loss, memory, and the spaces in between. The raven becomes a witness, or perhaps a mirror, of the self that clings to what cannot return. In this space, warmth fades into doubt, and the line between remembrance and imagination begins to fray. The figure does not mourn the past—they inhabit it, replaying it until it becomes indistinguishable from their present. This is not about letting go. It is about learning to live with the echo.

“Nevermore.”

– Magical Realism  – Inspired by „Cien Años de Solidad“ by Gabriel Garcia Márquez and „The Raven“ by Edgar Allen Poe

Raven

- In the House of Shadows

Raven extends the themes of Marisol, but trades dreamlike stillness for haunted certainty. The images show a half-lit, seemingly abandoned house—its corners echoing with silence—where a single figure sits, shadowed by a raven. The presence of the bird, and the echo of its whisper—Nevermore—anchor the work in Poe’s landscape of longing, loss, and inescapable memory. Here, memory is no longer a soft cocoon but a voice that returns again and again, refusing closure.

Between what disappears and what remains, something breathes. A shadow. A whisper. A pause heavier than any word. She holds on not to what was – but to who she became through it. Letting go would mean losing the shape she thought was hers.

Between the leaving and the never-left, something holds on. An echo. A tether. – What she carries isn’t memory, it’s the ghost of a story she tells to stay whole. Even knowing it never truly happened that way.

Between the flowers and the feathers, something sits down. A visit. A vigil. – There is no story here, only the silence before one begins. And maybe that’s all she needs: a space where what’s unsaid still speaks. Her self is a fragile construction, built from echoes.

There is no between anymore. It stays. So do I. A breathing. A blessing. – Nevermore, it says. And stays. And stays.

Raven

In the House of Shadows

 She couldn’t say how she had come to stand at the door of this house. When she awoke, she felt only that pull—an echo of the world she once knew with Marisol. The streets lay still, as if in a deep sleep, and she followed her steps without a second thought.

At the entrance, she paused. A gentle push was enough for the old door to give way. Inside, a warm twilight reigned, as though the house itself had chosen to admit shadows rather than light. A long hallway led her to a kitchen where a single large table stood beneath cracked, brightly colored tiles. Somewhere, water dripped into a metal bowl—a quiet, persistent echo in the silence.

She sank onto the edge of the table, feeling the cool air drifting through a gap in the window. On the wall hung a frayed piece of cloth, its muted gold tones reminding her of the once-radiant curtain in Marisol’s room.

All at once, a fluttering rush filled the room. A raven landed a short distance away, its head tilted as if listening to her breathe. While she gazed into the bird’s dark eyes, she suddenly thought she heard a faint whisper: “Nevermore.”

In that single word lay a hidden resonance, and for one fleeting moment, time seemed to stand still. Then the word rose again, echoing through the silence: “Nevermore.” She and the raven remained there, both strangers and yet bound by something reverberating within the empty rooms.

A third time, almost like an echo from another world: “Nevermore.” The bird twitched its wings, as though it meant to repeat itself. In its gaze lay a quiet promise—a whisper she could not shake: “Nevermore.”

 

 

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