The constitution as a daily task
The constitution is more than just a document. It is not a rigid piece of paper that lies in display cases and is only taken out on anniversaries. It is an echo — a reflection of what connects us. A common framework that gives us orientation and reminds us that freedom, equality, and dignity are not a given, but agreements that we have made as a society. Agreements that we must reaffirm again and again.
Our constitution is a compass of values that we carry together. It does not live in abstract paragraphs, but in our actions: in our attitude, respect, and willingness to listen – even when the tone becomes harsher, when the noise increases, and when it would be easier to hear only our own opinion.
We are the heirs to an idea. Generations before us not only dreamed of freedom, justice, and democratic participation, but fought for them. They placed their trust in the future — and entrusted us with the responsibility to further develop, protect, and fill this framework.
A constitution only remains alive if we live by it. If we recognize that community does not mean always agreeing with each other. But rather that we can tolerate differences — and still interact with each other. That we resolve conflicts without losing respect. That we criticize without dehumanizing. That we demand freedom not only for ourselves, but also grant it to others.
Community does not arise from perfection. It arises from the willingness to start over again and again. To name mistakes, to take responsibility, to allow new things. Democracy is a process, not a state. It is never finished. And it can never be taken for granted.
We contribute to it every day. With our voices. With our silence. With our attitude in small and large ways. Where we offer resistance. Where we show solidarity. Where we remember that we are part of a whole.
My art stems from this conviction: that we must remember our freedom so that it remains. That images are allowed to ask questions. That they can hold on to what is often lost in everyday life: attention. Reflection. Encounter.
This new motif is my invitation — to look, to listen, to think along. Not perfect. But sincere.
Because democracy does not begin in the great hall. It begins where people decide to act humanely.