A Journey Home:  On January 5, 1995 I visited Auschwitz.  Though rooms waist-deep in human hair and warehouses full of empty suitcases tore at my insides, it was not until I walked three miles down the road that I finally understood.  Less famous, but dwarfing its neighbor by many orders of magnitude, Auschwitz II - Birkenau has no signs, no guided tours. Left exactly as it was found in 1945 (hurridly wrecked by the SS in the attempt to hide its purpose from the advancing Russian army) it stans in silent testimony to pain.  These photographs were all taken within a period of 2 hours.  In the freezing cold and fading light, they represent my attempt to capture my emotions on film.  My cracked, bleeding hands and my frozen tears did what they could.  I don't know if it was enough.

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