this is the album of my mother's sister, beate schubert.
(larger sizes and plenty more here)
beate schubert died age 18 when quite literally falling off a mountain.
flicking through this album sends me through a wild tumble of the strangest sensations. i feel nostalgia for something i didn't even come close to experiencing. i feel intrusive as she couldn't have possibly have known of my existance and yet here i am, looking at her life, and i think i know all about her because my perception of her is limited to what i gather from this album - my grandmother, understandably, barely talked about her - but she had her own secrets, unexpected thoughs, unobserved moments too, just like me, just like you. i feel very sober, because you bet she didn't expect to die right until it happened.
but all of these are hardly new thoughts. which isn't a reason against expressing them though.
(larger sizes and plenty more here)
beate schubert died age 18 when quite literally falling off a mountain.
flicking through this album sends me through a wild tumble of the strangest sensations. i feel nostalgia for something i didn't even come close to experiencing. i feel intrusive as she couldn't have possibly have known of my existance and yet here i am, looking at her life, and i think i know all about her because my perception of her is limited to what i gather from this album - my grandmother, understandably, barely talked about her - but she had her own secrets, unexpected thoughs, unobserved moments too, just like me, just like you. i feel very sober, because you bet she didn't expect to die right until it happened.
but all of these are hardly new thoughts. which isn't a reason against expressing them though.
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