swapping the canvas for a shirt
a gallery for a market
and loneliness for pleasure

alternating phantasy and strategy
losing control walking a straight track
creating the universe in a square meter

my grandpa, clog maker
in the south of holland
twelve children to feed

pa, you finally found some rest
eldest son doing so well
but no wine to drink

the world of the arts
rules, written and unwritten
and me, I sat restless in the shadow

the meadows in front of me
with the neighbours around
this night a cow was mooing

the past,
like an empty hand
nothing to loose