Harald Laier

Between Gaze and Reflection With this work, I explore the boundaries between identity, perception, and staging. The multiple nested frames create different levels of seeing and invite you to look beyond the obvious. The white poodle at the center becomes the silent protagonist, while the black poodles surround the space like attentive companions and guardians. I am interested in how reality changes through perspective and how images shape our perception. The work moves between portrait, reflection, and illusion, serving as an invitation to question your own point of view. Each layer opens a new story and perhaps a new way of seeing ourselves.

In the warm light of the lanterns, the two brothers stood side by side, almost like reflections of a past life. The cobblestone path led them back to the place where they had walked through the same forest as children, only now everything seemed quieter, deeper, almost enchanted. "Do you remember?" one asked softly. The other just nodded and smiled. Some paths are never lost; you just walk them together again someday.

The Pregnant Elf! In the silver light of the full moon, the pregnant elf Lyrielle stood still in the warm waters of the forest. Her belly glowed softly, as if a little star child were sleeping inside. The ancient trees whispered quietly in the wind, for they knew that with the birth of her child, new magic would return to the world. When Lyrielle placed her hand on her belly, she felt a tiny heartbeat, and suddenly the entire forest began to sparkle like a sky full of stars.

Melonder, the Self-Consumer at Sunset! Once upon a time, there was a peculiar man named Melonder who woke up one morning to find that his head… well… was a juicy watermelon. At first, he took it in stride. "At least," he thought, "I'm especially refreshing in the summer." But soon the real problem arose: Melonder was constantly hungry. He tried everything—bread, cheese, even a very questionable combination of cucumber and jam—but nothing made him as happy as… watermelon. And that's when the dilemma began. One day, while gazing at the sunset, he held a perfectly sliced melon piece in his hand. It gleamed seductively. It smelled delicious. And somehow… it felt familiar. "Just a little bite," Melonder murmured. Crunch. A moment of silence. Then: "Oh! That's… me?!" But instead of panicking, Melonder just shrugged. "Well," he said with a full mouth, "recycling has always been important." From then on, he developed a very peculiar habit: whenever he was hungry, he ate a small piece of himself, just enough to regrow by the next day. Practical, sustainable, and a bit crazy. The villagers weren’t sure whether to admire or avoid him. But one thing was certain: no one ever had to bring melon to a picnic again. And Melonder? He continued to stand every evening in the warm light of the setting sun, happily biting into himself and thinking contentedly: "You are what you eat."