Els Dietvorst
One day this summer I thought I might have something to say, I didn't get to it till December, but anyway as Clem would say...
I decided to write about the drawings, and I've been circling them ever since.
These are the results of the conversations I started with Els's drawings on a miraculously sunny day in December after my first winter swim in the Irish Sea. The very same day my cousin Geoffry tried to shoot one of my precious pheasants, even though he said it was a wild duck. I know Els would prefer me to begin by writing about a pigeon, but she'll come around to pheasants one day, if we ever get out this blasted city...
I think every other conversation happened in the dreary days of January and February within the confines of my room within the confines of the European Capital that is BRU-X-ELLES.
The drawings talked to me in a strangely familiar way, which is to be expected I suppose as I seem to be living with them. Anyway I talked back sometimes responding, sometimes smothering them which you are allowed to do living in such close proximity, you understand...