"Every week, the uprisings claim lives among the inhabitants of this forsaken castle. Factions, clans and gangs all strive to dominate the courtyard, only to fall victim to the ironhanded rule of our wardens. Some of the miserables perish in their sleep by accidentally rolling onto a knife, crudely fashioned out of a toothbrush. Others spend their time gnawing on the bars of their cells.

How rare it is, in circumstances of such gravity, to meet an artistic soul with an eye for beauty and the skills to portray it. One of the last to remain, he took note of my epic tale and the adventures that washed my body upon these muddled shores.

So he promised to adorn my body with a fitting icon. A symbol to portray my struggles and my victories. As his needle hammers its pigments into my shoulder, there is nothing for me but prayer and the hope to gain access to a mirror one day, and bask in the glory of my own iconic piece of art."

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Dit beeld is onderdeel van een serie foto's die het verhaal vertelt over Wolfram von Eschenbach: een laatste, levende afstammeling van een 13e-eeuwse ridderfamilie. Wolfram doet zijn best aansluiting te vinden bij onze hedendaagse samenleving, maar heeft daar enorm veel moeite mee. Elke beeld uit de serie is voorzien van een geschreven verhaal. De totale serie is hier te vinden:

http://myalbum.com/album/pHN6pVVOD1I6
en
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