Volgens mij is er maar één nachtmis en die eindigt iets voor middernacht op Kerstavond. Dus hoe het kan dat opa “al naar de kerk was geweest” alsof het een zondag ochtend betrof, is mij een raadsel. “Moet jij niet naar de kerk?” brieste hij toen ik geen aanstalten maakte te vertrekken. [...]
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My mother is sitting on the floor, in her pyjamas, with a broken arm and a flu that just cleared up. A nest of children’s drawings, photos and wooden statues surrounds her: souvenirs from our life in Africa, in the 70’s. Large piles of books are stacked in a second circle. They originally occupied the shelf that we cleared, but now they’re cluttering the floor. We are making an Africa exhibition. [...] Somewhere in the 90’s there was a not-so-little girl, that would gosh over Brad Pitt. Watch his video’s, to admire his looks. Buy expensive magazines, to read his words. Cherish a Brad Pitt photo book, acquired on a trip to London. He was a star and she idolized him. Things were exactly as they should be. [...] |
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Copyright 2011 L.S. Harteveld. Design by AlfaBetty, code by Valentijn |
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