the last time

There is much talk about the first time but never the last times we go through in life.

My first last time experienced intensely was in December 1989; I was sixteen and the political change in East Germany had just caused the end of the course of studies I had enrolled for a few months earlier. I still remember the heavy university door closing behind me. I was so young that I had never gone through the end of something and just knew about things starting. Another closing door is etched in my memory and belonged to my first sincere boyfriend who refused talking to me which then seemed to be an experience not to overcome. A shocking experience was also losing a close friend for the first time. One good aspect of growing older is certainly getting used to things ending and to feel less painful about it; the long row of things lying behind me now rather gives me a feeling of age than regret.

My last photo trip through London started in the spring like garden of Fenton House, led me to Soho and ended in Chinatown where I bumped into a Chinese wedding. On my way to the bus stop I took this image of two girls with ruffled hair which could be rather unspectacular if it hadn’t been the last subject I photographed before I left London.

One thought on “the last time

  1. Anja, time for you to migrate. Google+ is the place to be for photographers. Come on over. It’s very friendly and a great source for info and inspiration. Hope you are well.

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