SERENDIPITY

In één van haar schilderijen is een verhaal gebruikt dat Fabienne heeft geschreven. De tekst is geschreven in een cirkel in één van haar moderne kunstwerken: Serendipity. De tekst is hieronder te lezen.

English

In one of her paintings Fabienne used a story she had written. The text was written all around a circle in one of her modern art paintings: Serendipity. You find the text below.

SERENDIPITY

I fly and I’m tiny. But who am I? The flies kindly responded “There’s a lot of us here. You’re welcome to be one of us. We can’t see your colour, but you’re probably grey”.” Thank you, my friends”, the fly friendly replied and continued its way. “Trying so hard to be the fastest fly ever, but why do I feel so slow and so tight. It feels like I’m stuck in a huge spider’s net. It’s getting closer and gagging me. With all flies around me, why is my loneliness here?”

The spider roared with laughter “A fly, did you think you were a fly, my dear? How wrong could you be. A turtle is the construction that fits best to you. You’re slow, because you don’t belong on land. In the water you should be”. “Thank you, thank you, my friend”. The turtle struggled further on its way to the sea. But its pace slowed down reaching the zero speed. “But if I am a turtle why does it feel like I’m totally stuck. My body won’t move and my load is hampering more and more. Is this how a turtle is supposed to be?”

“A turtle?”, a voice suddenly asked. “A snail you mean, you can hardly move. But your house is always there to find safety and security”. “Thank you, thank you, thank you”, the snail gratefully said. The snail retreated, even more. Searching for peacefulness. Sounds were diffused. Suddenly it was dazzled when its eyes were blinded by a car on the road. Terrified, scared to death. “Is there no one out there anymore?” it squeaked with the remnants of its voice. A terrible silence, seeming to last eternally.

Finally broken through by the creaking voice of an old, blind owl. “I hardly hear you and I surely don’t see you. But why don’t you ask your own inner voice?”.“My own inner voice? Is his dementia speaking?” Disheartened and bewildered the animal started to wriggle and squirm. “What in the world is going on? Where am I, What am I? Who am I?”

Slowly the world is broadening around me. Finally I touched firm ground under my feet. My sight is improving, unable to distinguish my colours just yet. Is it a faded one or the rainbow’s chromatic spectrum? What I do feel are my wings and I am strong enough to fly to all of my animal friends so dear.

Suddenly I see that I am not the only one of my kind. Many surround me. All with the most beautiful colors of their own. Freedom to join them whenever I like. My wings getting stronger as time passes by. With hardly an effort the wind takes me wherever I want. I quit wondering and decided to live with the wind as my guide.

A whole beautiful life to peacefully find out all about me.

Fabienne Kootstra