The days I spend with my brother follow a strict routine: we spend two hours going up and down on the escalator or in the lift, usually in a well-known chain of department stores. Afterwards we take the car and go to an underground car park. We go all the way down to the lowest floor, we park the car, we get out of the car and stroll around. For supper we always have spaghetti carbonara – preferably not home-cooked. After supper we get ourselves a beer and have a chat. My brother Martin usually does the talking.
My brother has Asperger's syndrome. The difficulties of mutual empathy and reciprocal communication along with interaction and acceptance are examined in my filmic and photographic work.