Silenced language: between not saying anything and having already said everything
I am on my way to Vlierzele, to the TaLe Art Gallery. The car follows a route I now know well: ribbon development, open fields, winter light that does not warm yet softens. On the passenger seat lies the text by curator Christine Adam. I am not reading it for the first time, but am reading it more slowly than before. After all, there are lots of traffic lights on Flemish roads and for some reason, they turn red more often on Sundays than on other days.