On November 16 in the year of 1979, at exactly 11:10 pm I was born in a particularly old city in the Dutch north. It was a gentle winter’s day, that 16th of November, though some undeniably dusky clouds transformed the innocent blue sky into a mesmerizing yet somewhat eerie piece of art.
Or so I imagine. It would befit me.
I dress in black. Always. I might as well been born in black, crying my lungs out with lips drenched in Mac’s Ruby Woo red. It is who I am. Artistic, stylish, sensitive, even optimistic (hence my blood-red lips)…yet ultimately, undeniably black. They say black doesn’t reflect back, but black is my mirror glass. I think it must have been my mother. Her ink black pleated skirts and onyx coloured silk blouses. Just like her, I gravitate towards the rich sanctuary of infinite, bottomless depth.