walk with husband and museum revisited, life and death on a sunny sunday
|we started our walk in the 'griend' near to where Tungsten is buried, this is his grave, strange to think of him buried there but that's how it is; it's a bit bare, I must remember to bring some wild flower seeds for sowing next time we come here
|we wandered through the 'griend' still airy and light without the leaves, willow pussies against the blue
grassy bushes along man-made lakes, they're like little islands, in the bright sunshine they make me smile, on a more grim day they're a lot spookier and remind me of 'the day of the Triffids'
up left you can see a tiny car driving on the dike
here we've just crossed the dike and in the background is the church spire in the village of Asperen, in the foreground a bunker from the Nieuwe Hollandse Waterlinie
|an uprooted tree being upheld by it's neighbour
after a bite to eat, my husband dropped me off in town at J's house and we went on our cultural trek through Gorinchem; we (re)visited the Museum and stood talking here in front of this piece:you get why I like it; the artist himself was there as well and he came up to us and we chatted and exchanged tales and before we knew it the museum was closing!
title 'de schaduw van Bewustzijn = the shadow of Consciousness'
what it means is, whilst alive we are the being we are in the body we experience as ours, once dead we are no longer this object, nor are we the name we were given, we 'regroup' as it were and return to the collective consciousness; what remains of us is but a shadow of this conscious being we once were, our 'essence' is once more part of everything; this is what I understood of what he told us, I may have got it wrong. The artist Henk van Dalen can hardly be found on the internet, he doesn't have a computer, site etc, so I'll just have to visit him in Dordrecht and take more pics of his work.....
after this lovely encounter J and I walked back to our respective homes; so here I am on the dike heading eastwards....
....with the sun setting on my back, almost home