ALIVE. I am, with pleasure.

BABEL. From the fallen tower dust was born.

BASIN. I always keep an eye on the bottom of the basin when I’m washing floors. It has to be there, nearby, to make the floor tiles at home even cleaner. If I lose sight of the bottom of the basin an unstained horizon is further away.

BROOM. he broom holds a dialogue with the home and its contents. To be more effective from time to time it tries to slip under the furniture. A vacuum cleaner would be a possibility, but its bulk and noise would make it an other. The broom is still oneself.

BUFFING. Loving makes shiny.

CAMP. In spring, the weather was fine at the camps. Green grass, soft sun and the living. At the side of the road, at the side of us, there were wrongdoers making camps.

CEMETARY. Lying there under our feet, almost gone beneath the heavy stone, are stowed the fragile bodies.

CHURCH.. Deserted, the house of God is closed too often.

CITY. Under the layers of the city lie the former inhabitants, who don’t miss a chance to get in the way of the living, when a shop or an underground car park is to be built.

COLOUR. wasn’t a colour, I became white in Kinshasa.

CREATING. To be happy and intense like a lover.

DIGGING. A good spade and a good pick axe for a beautiful tomb.

DUSTING. Household dust, while elusive in the air, comes to rest on the floor, on objects and on furniture. It insinuates itself between the furniture and the walls. Little by little, it becomes concentrated. It accumulates, gets stronger, builds itself up. Dusting is therefore necessary.

EARTH. When I am abroad, far from home, I am still on the curve of the earth.

FARAWAY. Run to go faster, sweep to go further.

FARM. My forebears lived and worked on the farm. I am also from the terra firma.