THE LOST ARCHIVE
My cousin was playing " library" in the box bed where my parents had stocked a lot of books. You could borrow books from him by paying him with LEGO parts. I was amazed to see, that in his collection there were also three separate pages of a picture book, that I had looked in a lot when I was three or four years old. The pictures show a gorgeous children's world, with – and this is most striking- wide landscapes in the background. Apparently the book had come apart and now consists of lose pages.
I thought to myself: lost archive. Shouldn't I keep track of that as well? Like our address reference list which has a heading in heaven, with the names of deceased people, with their last known address.
Two other pictures came to mind. The picture that is pasted on a piece of brown marbled cardboard which is attached to the edge of the writing desk. It depicted a man with a long robe. Underneath was the text: "Look, I'm standing before the door and I 'm knocking on it." OK, I saw that. But what did it mean? And why did it intrigue me so much? Was it because it was incomprehensible and therefore stimulated all kinds of ideas?
Another picture was perhaps even prettier. It had a faded green colour and it hung in a brown frame behind glass above the oak-wood children's cot in the small bedroom near the roller blinds. It showed a young boy, and above him the moon was shining a soft yellow. Or was it a balloon he held in his hand?
Both pictures are lost. They only still exist in my head. Forever lost files.
(that is why I made a painting in honour of the marriage of Han and Anneke, inspired by the lost file)