lieve shukrani simoens 

Verleden tijd is onveranderlijk
                                       / The past is eternal  

   ZINK de Collectie02

A poetical essay (in Dutch), published in ZINK de Collectie02 We are never alone, even when we are alone. We carry streets full of memories with us. M as well, but sometimes I wonder if he even knows I’m here. It all started years ago while looking at empty chairs. One in particular, the one in my studio. I couldn’t let go of the feeling that there was still someone, sitting next to me. From that day on, it followed me and when I moved for the umpteenth time, further away, I wrote a piece about it:

“While closing the front door I can feel his fingers touching mine. Their legs are still dancing in the living room where the table used to be. As I sit down on the couch and gaze at the white sheepskin in front of me, I can still see his hands trying to explain what went wrong that day. His right hand is still holding my blue sweater every time I choose to wear it. For her, green will always be his favourite colour even if it had changed over the years. Purple objects will always bring me back home. At the launderette while folding my clothes I will always think of my mother, even if she's not there. The spoon in the sink is still holding his hand. The green towel in the bathroom makes me calm. On the kitchen floor I found pieces of you. The yellow hair of the girl on her bike reminds me of all the birds my grandmother used to have in her kitchen. Blue cars are named Walter. And bumblebees Geoffrey. And when it rains I think of both of you. The murmur of the waves in the air, as she had described it, will always have your voice. Clouds and stars in summer bring us back together. Fireflies in my little hands even if I'm older now ...They call it memories."