kunst : Susan Tuttle
wis
bittere
herinneringen
en
droom
fonkelnieuwe
onder
ballon
Inge Deconinck
It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals.
. It dies of illness and wounds;
it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings.”
Anais Nin