When you were young, did you dream of what you’d be later on? I did. I was about six, maybe seven, when it dawned on me what I would become. Every Saturday morning I would go to the library in Rockhampton, Australia with my parents and my two younger brothers to return with another pile of history books. “Don’t you want to try something else Wim?” my parents asked after a while. “No,” I answered shaking my head and departed to my fantasy world of explorers who travelled the world in ships, on horseback and camelback, or on foot, discovering the most interesting lands.
We are all spirits in the material world
I’ve always had a keen sense of sight. Whether I was looking into the distance or up close, my eyesight never failed me. Yet, I never truly appreciated this gift, even though my peers often pointed it out to me, along with doctors at medical check-ups. Sure, I was aware of it, except its importance just didn’t sink in.
And I dreamed of a bright golden light flashing across the heavens.
Be honest, when was the last time you cried? Or does this question make you feel uncomfortable? OK, shall I go first then? I cry at least once a week, usually more though.
I am one with you
Throughout the ages, there were many couples who experienced a deep sense of love. Take, for instance, Romeo & Juliet, Samson & Delilah, Tristan & Isolde and Tamar & Armand. I have described the love felt by the latter couple in De feeks van Montpézat. And although their story is set in the late nineteenth Century, it is very much a modern-day one. The other day, Tamar, the ‘feeks’ (English: Hag), inspired me in writing a pantoum. Here she speaks to Armand from a distance, by speaking from her heart.