Long ago since I found the time to open my files of photography. It feels a bit like traveling back in time. But most of the "Wanderers" - vagabonds, artists of life, homeless musicians and hungry mouths - followed me in my heart and my mind till today. Maybe because they remind me of how quickly life can turn into a mess. How one step off the beaten track can make you stumble for life. And how you can find music - and dignity - in the most unlikely places. But do you find a home? Or do you carry it around, hidden inside?
Me, a vagabond myself of some sort, never felt at home anywhere. Wherever I was in this world, I enjoyed it as much as I could, but it always felt like a temporary place. Even for years. When I was 24, a psychic reader in one of these downstairs shops in Greenwich Village told me that "there will be lots of running around" in my life. No kidding - I have one of my oldest friends as a witness in case I should ever forget or doubt. So far, so true. But the palm reader also predicted that one fine day I would stop running around and find a home. Where, with whom and when? This is the big secret of my life.
So here they come, my fellow vagabonds: