Jörg Gläscher, a German photographer, was afflicted by the coronavirus epidemic in the same way we were. Instead of grumbling or giving up, the guy took things into his own hands and became inventive. Jörg has been keeping a visual journal he calls the C19,1-20, The Diary Complex, since the beginning of the epidemic. It features 20 various pieces of Jörg’s art, ranging from photography to sculpture, and one of the most recent additions has gone viral.
Jörg Gläscher, a German photographer, has produced a visual journal named C19,1-20, The Diary Complex since the outbreak began.

The Second Wave is the title of the item in question, and it depicts a sequence of massive deadwood waves “flowing” in the forests near Hamburg. As the second wave of the COVID-19 epidemic reached Germany, the wide variety of state limitations brought the nation to a halt, according to the artist. Jörg wanted to demonstrate how solid and all-destroying nature is, so he went to the forest and created nine distinct waves out of nothing but dead wood between November 2020 and March 2021.
One of its most recent contributions, the Second Wave, depicts a sequence of massive deadwood waves “streaming” in the forests near Hamburg.

The artist said, “The biggest, No. 8, is almost 4 meters high and 9 meters broad.” “I destroyed the photograph after taking it to create a new one using the materials.”
Jörg created nine of these waves, the tallest of which was almost 4 meters high and 9 meters wide.

The artist defines a wave as “a periodic oscillation or one-time disruption change in the state of a system.” “Observations are varied, unique, and cannot be immediately transferred. They may also be experienced in a variety of ways. A seen item may have a variety of effects. Is it still there? Is it moving? “Nothing is ever what it seems to be.”
“A wave is a recurring oscillation or a one-time disruption in a system’s state.”

“Are looks so deceptive?” Jörg wondered. “They aren’t always deceitful, but they accompany me on a trip, wash over me, swirl through me, make me nervous, recede, and then rush back towards me.” “Yet that can’t be,” argues the left half of my brain, “but I see and feel it,” adds the right side.
“Does it seem to be still?” Is it moving? Nothing is ever what it seems to be.”

“I can walk through them, stop them, touch them, but everything grinds to a halt, and there’s nothing more I can do.” It’s time for me to let go. “The second wave washes over me as I get up,” the artist says. “It’s one-of-a-kind; it was one-of-a-kind.” I raise my head, hold it in my palm, and recognize the vibrating and repeating feeling, and the terror fades away with it. I’ll be ready if anything happens.”
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