Under the barbels

Here she is, standing upright for the first time in her playpen. I could walk right up to her. And here she is sitting on an elephant on holiday in Indonesia. That was in 1981. See what she wrote underneath? I'm taking one home as a souvenir! And now, after all those years, this man says: you can walk right up to her. You don’t have to bring sunflowers to a grave in your head. From the bus stop in the village, I should walk straight up to the water. Then turn left and walk about two-hundred metres. There she is, he says. Where the reed stems bend in the wind. Under the barbels. What should I do? Do you believe in psychics? Would you like some more coffee?

Text © Pascal Panis