I am the rose of Sharon, the lily of the valleys.

As a lily among the thistles, so is my beloved among girls.

As an apple tree among the trees of the wood, so is my love among young men. In his delightful shade I sit, and his fruit is sweet to my taste.

He has taken me to his cellar, and his banner over me is love.

Feed me with raisin cakes, restore me with apples, for I am sick with love.

His left arm is under my head, his right embraces me.

I charge you, daughters of Jerusalem, by all gazelles and wild does, do not rouse, do not wake my beloved before she pleases.

I hear my love. See how he comes leaping on the mountains, bounding over the hills.

My love is like a gazelle, like a young stag. See where he stands behind our wall. He looks in at the window, he peers through the opening.

My love lifts up his voice, he says to me, ‘Come then, my beloved, my lovely one, come.

For see, winter is past, the rains are over and gone.

Flowers are appearing on the earth. The season of glad songs has come, the cooing of the turtledove is heard in our land.

The fig tree is forming its first figs and the blossoming vines give out their fragrance. Come then, my beloved, my lovely one, come.

My dove, hiding in the clefts of the rock, in the coverts of the cliff, show me your face, let me hear your voice; for your voice is sweet and your face is lovely.’

Catch the foxes for us, the little foxes that make havoc of the vineyards, for our vineyards are in fruit.

My love is mine and I am his. He pastures his flock among the lilies.

Before the day-breeze rises, before the shadows flee, return! Be, my love, like a gazelle, like a young stag, on the mountains of Bether.

(  Song of Songs 2:01- 2:17 )


The body, which has lost its function in communication. The picture that does not reflect what wants to be clearly visible. The described feeling to be trapped in your own body. The experience to meet a patient that understands my thoughts, but I do not understand him and I do not see that he actually understands me: this made me feel powerless and suddenly I desired to take his portrait and to see his naked body covered only in canvas, almost insensitive and easy to misunderstand, just before my eyes. I do not want to display anyone. But what is a photograph in the end. How to represent how lovingly a disable body can be, how much BEAUTY can be represented in a photograph. How do I let this body communicate, witch has no possibility to speak in our everyday language. To deprive the body of its actual function and to find a new form and way of being from an abstract point of view. This seems to me the solution. Lifting the body to another level of understanding. The extension to the ‘Song of Songs’ gives the whole research an even deeper meaning and I can see the new bodies appearing, more beautiful then ever.

Julia Krahn

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