Wednesday 11 January 2012
feeling the rain on my head and still no inclination to go back and fetch an umbrella. Walking through the park before going to buy bread for lunch, wondering if my cold will ever leave me. Anyway for the time being a visit to the sea is not a good idea.
The small decayed leaves I find under a bush I lay down in the sill and try to find a composition. That of course takes some time. It is as if the leaves still have a will of their own, but finely they co-operate and I finish them off.
In the afternoon we will visit friends at the other end of The Hague, to congratulate him with his birthday. And mine will come up soon too!
Words are stepping stones
But now they have deserted me
I open my eyes wide
And the Yiddish proverb:
A word does mot make a hole in the head.