The old heartsick reed organ moaning it’s tired regrets while cuts of TV cloud-static and spurts of bristled tones dance around the room. Clicks and knotted rotations of aged machines painting the air with dust. Muffled gears. Lights dimming. Long life to be alone with. That heavenly knowing smile of time with sad eyes and laugh lines etched into the forehead. A sonnet of metal and electricity. Human ran.
More about: Wouter Van Veldhoven
