So I slowly walked around listening to their whispers and then, on a table, this artwork hit me right between my eyes and stabbed my heart. My soul started screaming. She was almost unknowingly known to me like the ABCDE…Z.
So I just ignored my brain suffocating in finances and cash flow, and I bought the lady. And so I took her home. So I made her stand against a wall. So I am confronted by her presence when I walk into my office. So she trouble my back whilst I try to work. So that other lady that I brought as a mere photograph from the retirement village where she was left on her own when they took all her furniture away after her passing away, so that lady watches me watching the two of them. The subtle by shadows of the flowing soul. The longing of far away boats summoning real people to endless sea.
So I try to ignore them. There are many more paintings, and photos, and artifacts, even the photo of the dead Koos Sas, them all hammering my soul to remember their essence.
I am a grounded guy. I just don’t know what is wrong with this slippery sand below the running of tearful feet longing the surge of blue sky up there on the very above. Longing the surge of the pure, please, the pure, statement of substantial human soul.
