When reflecting on work becomes a poem:
A person is beautiful and full of complexities. Many emotions, feelings, stimuli, people who influence you, thoughts, emotions, feelings, silence, thoughts, moments, forgetting, emotions, remembering, non-thinking.
My work seems tangled. With many layers. Or are they not layers? With a lot of colours. Or are they the same colours? The colours mean something. Or don’t they?
There is chaos in me. Stimuli, interaction, feelings, connections.
All these lines represent events. People who slip in and out of my life. They stand for thoughts that go in all directions. They stand for different feelings.