Gabriëlla Cleuren

First sadness as memory after her death. This work on purple Japanese handmade paper notes my memory of my last encounter with her and him.

The work is soft like sadness - melancholy.

I drive in to their courtyard. Paul indicates the direction with hand motion. She stands alone at the back against a steel wall covering in white. My eye sees this . White and black !

I don't speak to her, but a feeling of sadness and lostness overwhelms me as I drive past her. Did she feel this way?

Is this really how it appears to me: indicated by a blood-red crossed heart with question marks . ( speaking in signs).

She invites us: me and my son to the coffee table , with black background, drawn here, after we went up the stairs to her house (footsteps).She shows us all her paintings she bought from me . I could remember little of them, and was bewildered, but the portraits of my parents moved me. Very beautiful in pastel. But I remained silent. Why didn't I praise her? I lament the words I did not speak. Her décor was that of an artiste.

The works are represented schematically by coloured areas , kind of tiles. Her table is noted with Ph and P facing each other and she who still came with fried eggs for us , her last service, generous as ever. I had no inkling!

Why didn't I hear the language of the heart? Displayed by a crossed-out ear.

We mourn on the far right!

A black bird flies up . The symbol of death.

Why all this. Why ???????

Translated with DeepL.com (free version)