The first time I drove past this wall on my way to the old harbors of Rotterdam, I didn’t quite understand what I was seeing. The weeds had just been cut, leaving behind a strange pattern.
It wasn’t until I passed by again that I realized what had happened: the sun had faded the paint on the wall, except in the spots where the weeds had grown.
The result was a kind of accidental artwork, created by the movement of the sun and the shadow of the plants—a plant-made photogram, in a way.
This got me thinking about impact, about what we leave behind, about life and death, and about what we’re doing with the time in between.
So, I started photographing the wall every time I drove by