The
Border
I hold the stone in the pocket of my jacket, run my fingers along the edges and feel how this ritual brings me peace.
A rock in my pocket literally provides something to hold on to, as a coping mechanism to distract me from underlying stress and everything that keeps my head spinning.
I walk through the park with my eyes on the ground, as I could walk for hours on a beach. I pay attention to the paved paths and notice that most of them have fallen into disrepair. And it is precisely this decline that intrigues me.
The hard boundary that was placed with precision, is now gradually crumbling. The hard border is gone.
I‘m not into hard boundaries, I like to walk between and over the lines. But visually I like a certain order. In my ideal world everything has its place and there is a balance.
In search of order in the chaos, I wonder where the crumbled pieces of asphalt have gone. Are they so finely crumbled and blended into the surrounding sand? Or did the park maintenance staff sweep the paths too well? And does that mean that if you try to do something too perfect, you will suffer your own defeat? Or is it just nature that wins over humans as always?
The edge of the safe path is fragile. So is the limit of freedom.
Behind this border, chaos continues and freedom beckons. Do I choose the safe path, or do I cross the border anyway?
The edges of the asphalt bear traces of decay, like scars of those who have tested their own boundaries. Just as tactile as the scars, the break between asphalt and ground also invites you to feel it. Seeing and feeling boundaries helps to understand them. What I capture in an image, I try to feel with my eyes.
I see the border crumbling into little islands on a map. As in reality, nothing is black and white, there is not one truth and I am only one in 8 billion.
I embrace the chaos and cross the border.
Bonjour Madame, J’ai bien reçu votre demande de renseignements concernant votre arrière-grand-père, Constant VISSERS. Je vais faire des recherches dans les archives de la commune et ne manquerai pas de revenir vers vous afin de vous communiquer ce que j’aurais collecté. Cordialement, Ariane DUBRULLE Mairie de Malaunay Service Accueil Etat-Civil Cimetière Elections Place de la Laïcité 76770 MALAUNAY
Dag Marijke, Hartelijk dank voor je mail. Je gaat de eenheid van je overgrootvader niet precies te weten te komen. Eerst vertel ik je graag even over het 2de geneeskundig korps, en dan zou ik het ook graag over de grafsteen hebben.