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About Marion
In the room of my old days
Later, earlier disappeared.
Or no, sooner is later,
no, the past is already gone, while later will disappear much sooner than before.
And I used to think: later it will be fun, but later think: it used to be more fun, only I didn't know that about later.
And that's the nice thing about later, that you know that before you didn't know what you would know later, while later, much later, you forget everything you knew about the past, now, and even later, and even that once upon a time there was something different from the present.
On August 24, 2007 Marion Bloem turned 55. This prompted the publication of a selection of her personal poems and paintings.
In my old room is a sentence from one of Bloem's poems about her Indian grandmother.
In this collection we also find poetry about her father, motherhood, her own grandmotherhood and her relationship with her husband, who was confronted with prostate cancer a few years ago.
She processed personal events such as serious illnesses in the family through poems and paintings. Scratches, smudges, strokes, letters, numbers, dots and commas across beyond and beyond.
Or no, sooner is later,
no, the past is already gone, while later will disappear much sooner than before.
And I used to think: later it will be fun, but later think: it used to be more fun, only I didn't know that about later.
And that's the nice thing about later, that you know that before you didn't know what you would know later, while later, much later, you forget everything you knew about the past, now, and even later, and even that once upon a time there was something different from the present.
On August 24, 2007 Marion Bloem turned 55. This prompted the publication of a selection of her personal poems and paintings.
In my old room is a sentence from one of Bloem's poems about her Indian grandmother.
In this collection we also find poetry about her father, motherhood, her own grandmotherhood and her relationship with her husband, who was confronted with prostate cancer a few years ago.
She processed personal events such as serious illnesses in the family through poems and paintings. Scratches, smudges, strokes, letters, numbers, dots and commas across beyond and beyond.
Home
All her life, Marion Bloem has kept a diary in which she not only writes, but also draws and paints. Her diaries contain sketches and notes that later develop into novels, stories and paintings. As the daughter of Indian migrants, she is familiar with looking for a 'home'. Bloem experiences her diaries as her most comfortable home. Past, present, dreams, fears and future find their place in this picturesque anthology. The stories she grew up with, her childhood as an Indian girl, her many travels all over the world, the love for her son, her integration into Dutch society and her feeling of being a global citizen who feels at home everywhere and nowhere, brings they are expressed in text and image.
In the room of my old days
Later, earlier disappeared.
Or no, sooner is later,
no, the past is already gone, while later will disappear much sooner than before.
And I used to think: later it will be fun, but later think: it used to be more fun, only I didn't know that about later.
And that's the nice thing about later, that you know that before you didn't know what you would know later, while later, much later, you forget everything you knew about the past, now, and even later, and even that once upon a time there was something different from the present.
On August 24, 2007 Marion Bloem turned 55. This prompted the publication of a selection of her personal poems and paintings.
In my old room is a sentence from one of Bloem's poems about her Indian grandmother.
In this collection we also find poetry about her father, motherhood, her own grandmotherhood and her relationship with her husband, who was confronted with prostate cancer a few years ago.
She processed personal events such as serious illnesses in the family through poems and paintings. Scratches, smudges, strokes, letters, numbers, dots and commas across beyond and beyond.
Or no, sooner is later,
no, the past is already gone, while later will disappear much sooner than before.
And I used to think: later it will be fun, but later think: it used to be more fun, only I didn't know that about later.
And that's the nice thing about later, that you know that before you didn't know what you would know later, while later, much later, you forget everything you knew about the past, now, and even later, and even that once upon a time there was something different from the present.
On August 24, 2007 Marion Bloem turned 55. This prompted the publication of a selection of her personal poems and paintings.
In my old room is a sentence from one of Bloem's poems about her Indian grandmother.
In this collection we also find poetry about her father, motherhood, her own grandmotherhood and her relationship with her husband, who was confronted with prostate cancer a few years ago.
She processed personal events such as serious illnesses in the family through poems and paintings. Scratches, smudges, strokes, letters, numbers, dots and commas across beyond and beyond.
Home
All her life, Marion Bloem has kept a diary in which she not only writes, but also draws and paints. Her diaries contain sketches and notes that later develop into novels, stories and paintings. As the daughter of Indian migrants, she is familiar with looking for a 'home'. Bloem experiences her diaries as her most comfortable home. Past, present, dreams, fears and future find their place in this picturesque anthology. The stories she grew up with, her childhood as an Indian girl, her many travels all over the world, the love for her son, her integration into Dutch society and her feeling of being a global citizen who feels at home everywhere and nowhere, brings they are expressed in text and image.
In the room of my old days
Later, earlier disappeared.
Or no, sooner is later,
no, the past is already gone, while later will disappear much sooner than before.
And I used to think: later it will be fun, but later think: it used to be more fun, only I didn't know that about later.
And that's the nice thing about later, that you know that before you didn't know what you would know later, while later, much later, you forget everything you knew about the past, now, and even later, and even that once upon a time there was something different from the present.
On August 24, 2007 Marion Bloem turned 55. This prompted the publication of a selection of her personal poems and paintings.
In my old room is a sentence from one of Bloem's poems about her Indian grandmother.
In this collection we also find poetry about her father, motherhood, her own grandmotherhood and her relationship with her husband, who was confronted with prostate cancer a few years ago.
She processed personal events such as serious illnesses in the family through poems and paintings. Scratches, smudges, strokes, letters, numbers, dots and commas across beyond and beyond.
Or no, sooner is later,
no, the past is already gone, while later will disappear much sooner than before.
And I used to think: later it will be fun, but later think: it used to be more fun, only I didn't know that about later.
And that's the nice thing about later, that you know that before you didn't know what you would know later, while later, much later, you forget everything you knew about the past, now, and even later, and even that once upon a time there was something different from the present.
On August 24, 2007 Marion Bloem turned 55. This prompted the publication of a selection of her personal poems and paintings.
In my old room is a sentence from one of Bloem's poems about her Indian grandmother.
In this collection we also find poetry about her father, motherhood, her own grandmotherhood and her relationship with her husband, who was confronted with prostate cancer a few years ago.
She processed personal events such as serious illnesses in the family through poems and paintings. Scratches, smudges, strokes, letters, numbers, dots and commas across beyond and beyond.
Home
All her life, Marion Bloem has kept a diary in which she not only writes, but also draws and paints. Her diaries contain sketches and notes that later develop into novels, stories and paintings. As the daughter of Indian migrants, she is familiar with looking for a 'home'. Bloem experiences her diaries as her most comfortable home. Past, present, dreams, fears and future find their place in this picturesque anthology. The stories she grew up with, her childhood as an Indian girl, her many travels all over the world, the love for her son, her integration into Dutch society and her feeling of being a global citizen who feels at home everywhere and nowhere, brings they are expressed in text and image.
In the room of my old days
Later, earlier disappeared.
Or no, sooner is later,
no, the past is already gone, while later will disappear much sooner than before.
And I used to think: later it will be fun, but later think: it used to be more fun, only I didn't know that about later.
And that's the nice thing about later, that you know that before you didn't know what you would know later, while later, much later, you forget everything you knew about the past, now, and even later, and even that once upon a time there was something different from the present.
On August 24, 2007 Marion Bloem turned 55. This prompted the publication of a selection of her personal poems and paintings.
In my old room is a sentence from one of Bloem's poems about her Indian grandmother.
In this collection we also find poetry about her father, motherhood, her own grandmotherhood and her relationship with her husband, who was confronted with prostate cancer a few years ago.
She processed personal events such as serious illnesses in the family through poems and paintings. Scratches, smudges, strokes, letters, numbers, dots and commas across beyond and beyond.
Or no, sooner is later,
no, the past is already gone, while later will disappear much sooner than before.
And I used to think: later it will be fun, but later think: it used to be more fun, only I didn't know that about later.
And that's the nice thing about later, that you know that before you didn't know what you would know later, while later, much later, you forget everything you knew about the past, now, and even later, and even that once upon a time there was something different from the present.
On August 24, 2007 Marion Bloem turned 55. This prompted the publication of a selection of her personal poems and paintings.
In my old room is a sentence from one of Bloem's poems about her Indian grandmother.
In this collection we also find poetry about her father, motherhood, her own grandmotherhood and her relationship with her husband, who was confronted with prostate cancer a few years ago.
She processed personal events such as serious illnesses in the family through poems and paintings. Scratches, smudges, strokes, letters, numbers, dots and commas across beyond and beyond.
Home
All her life, Marion Bloem has kept a diary in which she not only writes, but also draws and paints. Her diaries contain sketches and notes that later develop into novels, stories and paintings. As the daughter of Indian migrants, she is familiar with looking for a 'home'. Bloem experiences her diaries as her most comfortable home. Past, present, dreams, fears and future find their place in this picturesque anthology. The stories she grew up with, her childhood as an Indian girl, her many travels all over the world, the love for her son, her integration into Dutch society and her feeling of being a global citizen who feels at home everywhere and nowhere, brings they are expressed in text and image.
In the room of my old days
Later, earlier disappeared.
Or no, sooner is later,
no, the past is already gone, while later will disappear much sooner than before.
And I used to think: later it will be fun, but later think: it used to be more fun, only I didn't know that about later.
And that's the nice thing about later, that you know that before you didn't know what you would know later, while later, much later, you forget everything you knew about the past, now, and even later, and even that once upon a time there was something different from the present.
On August 24, 2007 Marion Bloem turned 55. This prompted the publication of a selection of her personal poems and paintings.
In my old room is a sentence from one of Bloem's poems about her Indian grandmother.
In this collection we also find poetry about her father, motherhood, her own grandmotherhood and her relationship with her husband, who was confronted with prostate cancer a few years ago.
She processed personal events such as serious illnesses in the family through poems and paintings. Scratches, smudges, strokes, letters, numbers, dots and commas across beyond and beyond.
Or no, sooner is later,
no, the past is already gone, while later will disappear much sooner than before.
And I used to think: later it will be fun, but later think: it used to be more fun, only I didn't know that about later.
And that's the nice thing about later, that you know that before you didn't know what you would know later, while later, much later, you forget everything you knew about the past, now, and even later, and even that once upon a time there was something different from the present.
On August 24, 2007 Marion Bloem turned 55. This prompted the publication of a selection of her personal poems and paintings.
In my old room is a sentence from one of Bloem's poems about her Indian grandmother.
In this collection we also find poetry about her father, motherhood, her own grandmotherhood and her relationship with her husband, who was confronted with prostate cancer a few years ago.
She processed personal events such as serious illnesses in the family through poems and paintings. Scratches, smudges, strokes, letters, numbers, dots and commas across beyond and beyond.
Home
All her life, Marion Bloem has kept a diary in which she not only writes, but also draws and paints. Her diaries contain sketches and notes that later develop into novels, stories and paintings. As the daughter of Indian migrants, she is familiar with looking for a 'home'. Bloem experiences her diaries as her most comfortable home. Past, present, dreams, fears and future find their place in this picturesque anthology. The stories she grew up with, her childhood as an Indian girl, her many travels all over the world, the love for her son, her integration into Dutch society and her feeling of being a global citizen who feels at home everywhere and nowhere, brings they are expressed in text and image.
In the room of my old days
Later, earlier disappeared.
Or no, sooner is later,
no, the past is already gone, while later will disappear much sooner than before.
And I used to think: later it will be fun, but later think: it used to be more fun, only I didn't know that about later.
And that's the nice thing about later, that you know that before you didn't know what you would know later, while later, much later, you forget everything you knew about the past, now, and even later, and even that once upon a time there was something different from the present.
On August 24, 2007 Marion Bloem turned 55. This prompted the publication of a selection of her personal poems and paintings.
In my old room is a sentence from one of Bloem's poems about her Indian grandmother.
In this collection we also find poetry about her father, motherhood, her own grandmotherhood and her relationship with her husband, who was confronted with prostate cancer a few years ago.
She processed personal events such as serious illnesses in the family through poems and paintings. Scratches, smudges, strokes, letters, numbers, dots and commas across beyond and beyond.
Or no, sooner is later,
no, the past is already gone, while later will disappear much sooner than before.
And I used to think: later it will be fun, but later think: it used to be more fun, only I didn't know that about later.
And that's the nice thing about later, that you know that before you didn't know what you would know later, while later, much later, you forget everything you knew about the past, now, and even later, and even that once upon a time there was something different from the present.
On August 24, 2007 Marion Bloem turned 55. This prompted the publication of a selection of her personal poems and paintings.
In my old room is a sentence from one of Bloem's poems about her Indian grandmother.
In this collection we also find poetry about her father, motherhood, her own grandmotherhood and her relationship with her husband, who was confronted with prostate cancer a few years ago.
She processed personal events such as serious illnesses in the family through poems and paintings. Scratches, smudges, strokes, letters, numbers, dots and commas across beyond and beyond.
Home
All her life, Marion Bloem has kept a diary in which she not only writes, but also draws and paints. Her diaries contain sketches and notes that later develop into novels, stories and paintings. As the daughter of Indian migrants, she is familiar with looking for a 'home'. Bloem experiences her diaries as her most comfortable home. Past, present, dreams, fears and future find their place in this picturesque anthology. The stories she grew up with, her childhood as an Indian girl, her many travels all over the world, the love for her son, her integration into Dutch society and her feeling of being a global citizen who feels at home everywhere and nowhere, brings they are expressed in text and image.
In the room of my old days
Later, earlier disappeared.
Or no, sooner is later,
no, the past is already gone, while later will disappear much sooner than before.
And I used to think: later it will be fun, but later think: it used to be more fun, only I didn't know that about later.
And that's the nice thing about later, that you know that before you didn't know what you would know later, while later, much later, you forget everything you knew about the past, now, and even later, and even that once upon a time there was something different from the present.
On August 24, 2007 Marion Bloem turned 55. This prompted the publication of a selection of her personal poems and paintings.
In my old room is a sentence from one of Bloem's poems about her Indian grandmother.
In this collection we also find poetry about her father, motherhood, her own grandmotherhood and her relationship with her husband, who was confronted with prostate cancer a few years ago.
She processed personal events such as serious illnesses in the family through poems and paintings. Scratches, smudges, strokes, letters, numbers, dots and commas across beyond and beyond.
Or no, sooner is later,
no, the past is already gone, while later will disappear much sooner than before.
And I used to think: later it will be fun, but later think: it used to be more fun, only I didn't know that about later.
And that's the nice thing about later, that you know that before you didn't know what you would know later, while later, much later, you forget everything you knew about the past, now, and even later, and even that once upon a time there was something different from the present.
On August 24, 2007 Marion Bloem turned 55. This prompted the publication of a selection of her personal poems and paintings.
In my old room is a sentence from one of Bloem's poems about her Indian grandmother.
In this collection we also find poetry about her father, motherhood, her own grandmotherhood and her relationship with her husband, who was confronted with prostate cancer a few years ago.
She processed personal events such as serious illnesses in the family through poems and paintings. Scratches, smudges, strokes, letters, numbers, dots and commas across beyond and beyond.
Home
All her life, Marion Bloem has kept a diary in which she not only writes, but also draws and paints. Her diaries contain sketches and notes that later develop into novels, stories and paintings. As the daughter of Indian migrants, she is familiar with looking for a 'home'. Bloem experiences her diaries as her most comfortable home. Past, present, dreams, fears and future find their place in this picturesque anthology. The stories she grew up with, her childhood as an Indian girl, her many travels all over the world, the love for her son, her integration into Dutch society and her feeling of being a global citizen who feels at home everywhere and nowhere, brings they are expressed in text and image.
In the room of my old days
Later, earlier disappeared.
Or no, sooner is later,
no, the past is already gone, while later will disappear much sooner than before.
And I used to think: later it will be fun, but later think: it used to be more fun, only I didn't know that about later.
And that's the nice thing about later, that you know that before you didn't know what you would know later, while later, much later, you forget everything you knew about the past, now, and even later, and even that once upon a time there was something different from the present.
On August 24, 2007 Marion Bloem turned 55. This prompted the publication of a selection of her personal poems and paintings.
In my old room is a sentence from one of Bloem's poems about her Indian grandmother.
In this collection we also find poetry about her father, motherhood, her own grandmotherhood and her relationship with her husband, who was confronted with prostate cancer a few years ago.
She processed personal events such as serious illnesses in the family through poems and paintings. Scratches, smudges, strokes, letters, numbers, dots and commas across beyond and beyond.
Or no, sooner is later,
no, the past is already gone, while later will disappear much sooner than before.
And I used to think: later it will be fun, but later think: it used to be more fun, only I didn't know that about later.
And that's the nice thing about later, that you know that before you didn't know what you would know later, while later, much later, you forget everything you knew about the past, now, and even later, and even that once upon a time there was something different from the present.
On August 24, 2007 Marion Bloem turned 55. This prompted the publication of a selection of her personal poems and paintings.
In my old room is a sentence from one of Bloem's poems about her Indian grandmother.
In this collection we also find poetry about her father, motherhood, her own grandmotherhood and her relationship with her husband, who was confronted with prostate cancer a few years ago.
She processed personal events such as serious illnesses in the family through poems and paintings. Scratches, smudges, strokes, letters, numbers, dots and commas across beyond and beyond.
Home
All her life, Marion Bloem has kept a diary in which she not only writes, but also draws and paints. Her diaries contain sketches and notes that later develop into novels, stories and paintings. As the daughter of Indian migrants, she is familiar with looking for a 'home'. Bloem experiences her diaries as her most comfortable home. Past, present, dreams, fears and future find their place in this picturesque anthology. The stories she grew up with, her childhood as an Indian girl, her many travels all over the world, the love for her son, her integration into Dutch society and her feeling of being a global citizen who feels at home everywhere and nowhere, brings they are expressed in text and image.
In the room of my old days
Later, earlier disappeared.
Or no, sooner is later,
no, the past is already gone, while later will disappear much sooner than before.
And I used to think: later it will be fun, but later think: it used to be more fun, only I didn't know that about later.
And that's the nice thing about later, that you know that before you didn't know what you would know later, while later, much later, you forget everything you knew about the past, now, and even later, and even that once upon a time there was something different from the present.
On August 24, 2007 Marion Bloem turned 55. This prompted the publication of a selection of her personal poems and paintings.
In my old room is a sentence from one of Bloem's poems about her Indian grandmother.
In this collection we also find poetry about her father, motherhood, her own grandmotherhood and her relationship with her husband, who was confronted with prostate cancer a few years ago.
She processed personal events such as serious illnesses in the family through poems and paintings. Scratches, smudges, strokes, letters, numbers, dots and commas across beyond and beyond.
Or no, sooner is later,
no, the past is already gone, while later will disappear much sooner than before.
And I used to think: later it will be fun, but later think: it used to be more fun, only I didn't know that about later.
And that's the nice thing about later, that you know that before you didn't know what you would know later, while later, much later, you forget everything you knew about the past, now, and even later, and even that once upon a time there was something different from the present.
On August 24, 2007 Marion Bloem turned 55. This prompted the publication of a selection of her personal poems and paintings.
In my old room is a sentence from one of Bloem's poems about her Indian grandmother.
In this collection we also find poetry about her father, motherhood, her own grandmotherhood and her relationship with her husband, who was confronted with prostate cancer a few years ago.
She processed personal events such as serious illnesses in the family through poems and paintings. Scratches, smudges, strokes, letters, numbers, dots and commas across beyond and beyond.
Home
All her life, Marion Bloem has kept a diary in which she not only writes, but also draws and paints. Her diaries contain sketches and notes that later develop into novels, stories and paintings. As the daughter of Indian migrants, she is familiar with looking for a 'home'. Bloem experiences her diaries as her most comfortable home. Past, present, dreams, fears and future find their place in this picturesque anthology. The stories she grew up with, her childhood as an Indian girl, her many travels all over the world, the love for her son, her integration into Dutch society and her feeling of being a global citizen who feels at home everywhere and nowhere, brings they are expressed in text and image.
In the room of my old days
Later, earlier disappeared.
Or no, sooner is later,
no, the past is already gone, while later will disappear much sooner than before.
And I used to think: later it will be fun, but later think: it used to be more fun, only I didn't know that about later.
And that's the nice thing about later, that you know that before you didn't know what you would know later, while later, much later, you forget everything you knew about the past, now, and even later, and even that once upon a time there was something different from the present.
On August 24, 2007 Marion Bloem turned 55. This prompted the publication of a selection of her personal poems and paintings.
In my old room is a sentence from one of Bloem's poems about her Indian grandmother.
In this collection we also find poetry about her father, motherhood, her own grandmotherhood and her relationship with her husband, who was confronted with prostate cancer a few years ago.
She processed personal events such as serious illnesses in the family through poems and paintings. Scratches, smudges, strokes, letters, numbers, dots and commas across beyond and beyond.
Or no, sooner is later,
no, the past is already gone, while later will disappear much sooner than before.
And I used to think: later it will be fun, but later think: it used to be more fun, only I didn't know that about later.
And that's the nice thing about later, that you know that before you didn't know what you would know later, while later, much later, you forget everything you knew about the past, now, and even later, and even that once upon a time there was something different from the present.
On August 24, 2007 Marion Bloem turned 55. This prompted the publication of a selection of her personal poems and paintings.
In my old room is a sentence from one of Bloem's poems about her Indian grandmother.
In this collection we also find poetry about her father, motherhood, her own grandmotherhood and her relationship with her husband, who was confronted with prostate cancer a few years ago.
She processed personal events such as serious illnesses in the family through poems and paintings. Scratches, smudges, strokes, letters, numbers, dots and commas across beyond and beyond.
Home
All her life, Marion Bloem has kept a diary in which she not only writes, but also draws and paints. Her diaries contain sketches and notes that later develop into novels, stories and paintings. As the daughter of Indian migrants, she is familiar with looking for a 'home'. Bloem experiences her diaries as her most comfortable home. Past, present, dreams, fears and future find their place in this picturesque anthology. The stories she grew up with, her childhood as an Indian girl, her many travels all over the world, the love for her son, her integration into Dutch society and her feeling of being a global citizen who feels at home everywhere and nowhere, brings they are expressed in text and image.
In the room of my old days
Later, earlier disappeared.
Or no, sooner is later,
no, the past is already gone, while later will disappear much sooner than before.
And I used to think: later it will be fun, but later think: it used to be more fun, only I didn't know that about later.
And that's the nice thing about later, that you know that before you didn't know what you would know later, while later, much later, you forget everything you knew about the past, now, and even later, and even that once upon a time there was something different from the present.
On August 24, 2007 Marion Bloem turned 55. This prompted the publication of a selection of her personal poems and paintings.
In my old room is a sentence from one of Bloem's poems about her Indian grandmother.
In this collection we also find poetry about her father, motherhood, her own grandmotherhood and her relationship with her husband, who was confronted with prostate cancer a few years ago.
She processed personal events such as serious illnesses in the family through poems and paintings. Scratches, smudges, strokes, letters, numbers, dots and commas across beyond and beyond.
Or no, sooner is later,
no, the past is already gone, while later will disappear much sooner than before.
And I used to think: later it will be fun, but later think: it used to be more fun, only I didn't know that about later.
And that's the nice thing about later, that you know that before you didn't know what you would know later, while later, much later, you forget everything you knew about the past, now, and even later, and even that once upon a time there was something different from the present.
On August 24, 2007 Marion Bloem turned 55. This prompted the publication of a selection of her personal poems and paintings.
In my old room is a sentence from one of Bloem's poems about her Indian grandmother.
In this collection we also find poetry about her father, motherhood, her own grandmotherhood and her relationship with her husband, who was confronted with prostate cancer a few years ago.
She processed personal events such as serious illnesses in the family through poems and paintings. Scratches, smudges, strokes, letters, numbers, dots and commas across beyond and beyond.
Home
All her life, Marion Bloem has kept a diary in which she not only writes, but also draws and paints. Her diaries contain sketches and notes that later develop into novels, stories and paintings. As the daughter of Indian migrants, she is familiar with looking for a 'home'. Bloem experiences her diaries as her most comfortable home. Past, present, dreams, fears and future find their place in this picturesque anthology. The stories she grew up with, her childhood as an Indian girl, her many travels all over the world, the love for her son, her integration into Dutch society and her feeling of being a global citizen who feels at home everywhere and nowhere, brings they are expressed in text and image.
In the room of my old days
Later, earlier disappeared.
Or no, sooner is later,
no, the past is already gone, while later will disappear much sooner than before.
And I used to think: later it will be fun, but later think: it used to be more fun, only I didn't know that about later.
And that's the nice thing about later, that you know that before you didn't know what you would know later, while later, much later, you forget everything you knew about the past, now, and even later, and even that once upon a time there was something different from the present.
On August 24, 2007 Marion Bloem turned 55. This prompted the publication of a selection of her personal poems and paintings.
In my old room is a sentence from one of Bloem's poems about her Indian grandmother.
In this collection we also find poetry about her father, motherhood, her own grandmotherhood and her relationship with her husband, who was confronted with prostate cancer a few years ago.
She processed personal events such as serious illnesses in the family through poems and paintings. Scratches, smudges, strokes, letters, numbers, dots and commas across beyond and beyond.
Or no, sooner is later,
no, the past is already gone, while later will disappear much sooner than before.
And I used to think: later it will be fun, but later think: it used to be more fun, only I didn't know that about later.
And that's the nice thing about later, that you know that before you didn't know what you would know later, while later, much later, you forget everything you knew about the past, now, and even later, and even that once upon a time there was something different from the present.
On August 24, 2007 Marion Bloem turned 55. This prompted the publication of a selection of her personal poems and paintings.
In my old room is a sentence from one of Bloem's poems about her Indian grandmother.
In this collection we also find poetry about her father, motherhood, her own grandmotherhood and her relationship with her husband, who was confronted with prostate cancer a few years ago.
She processed personal events such as serious illnesses in the family through poems and paintings. Scratches, smudges, strokes, letters, numbers, dots and commas across beyond and beyond.
Home
All her life, Marion Bloem has kept a diary in which she not only writes, but also draws and paints. Her diaries contain sketches and notes that later develop into novels, stories and paintings. As the daughter of Indian migrants, she is familiar with looking for a 'home'. Bloem experiences her diaries as her most comfortable home. Past, present, dreams, fears and future find their place in this picturesque anthology. The stories she grew up with, her childhood as an Indian girl, her many travels all over the world, the love for her son, her integration into Dutch society and her feeling of being a global citizen who feels at home everywhere and nowhere, brings they are expressed in text and image.
In the room of my old days
Later, earlier disappeared.
Or no, sooner is later,
no, the past is already gone, while later will disappear much sooner than before.
And I used to think: later it will be fun, but later think: it used to be more fun, only I didn't know that about later.
And that's the nice thing about later, that you know that before you didn't know what you would know later, while later, much later, you forget everything you knew about the past, now, and even later, and even that once upon a time there was something different from the present.
On August 24, 2007 Marion Bloem turned 55. This prompted the publication of a selection of her personal poems and paintings.
In my old room is a sentence from one of Bloem's poems about her Indian grandmother.
In this collection we also find poetry about her father, motherhood, her own grandmotherhood and her relationship with her husband, who was confronted with prostate cancer a few years ago.
She processed personal events such as serious illnesses in the family through poems and paintings. Scratches, smudges, strokes, letters, numbers, dots and commas across beyond and beyond.
Or no, sooner is later,
no, the past is already gone, while later will disappear much sooner than before.
And I used to think: later it will be fun, but later think: it used to be more fun, only I didn't know that about later.
And that's the nice thing about later, that you know that before you didn't know what you would know later, while later, much later, you forget everything you knew about the past, now, and even later, and even that once upon a time there was something different from the present.
On August 24, 2007 Marion Bloem turned 55. This prompted the publication of a selection of her personal poems and paintings.
In my old room is a sentence from one of Bloem's poems about her Indian grandmother.
In this collection we also find poetry about her father, motherhood, her own grandmotherhood and her relationship with her husband, who was confronted with prostate cancer a few years ago.
She processed personal events such as serious illnesses in the family through poems and paintings. Scratches, smudges, strokes, letters, numbers, dots and commas across beyond and beyond.
Home
All her life, Marion Bloem has kept a diary in which she not only writes, but also draws and paints. Her diaries contain sketches and notes that later develop into novels, stories and paintings. As the daughter of Indian migrants, she is familiar with looking for a 'home'. Bloem experiences her diaries as her most comfortable home. Past, present, dreams, fears and future find their place in this picturesque anthology. The stories she grew up with, her childhood as an Indian girl, her many travels all over the world, the love for her son, her integration into Dutch society and her feeling of being a global citizen who feels at home everywhere and nowhere, brings they are expressed in text and image.
In the room of my old days
Later, earlier disappeared.
Or no, sooner is later,
no, the past is already gone, while later will disappear much sooner than before.
And I used to think: later it will be fun, but later think: it used to be more fun, only I didn't know that about later.
And that's the nice thing about later, that you know that before you didn't know what you would know later, while later, much later, you forget everything you knew about the past, now, and even later, and even that once upon a time there was something different from the present.
On August 24, 2007 Marion Bloem turned 55. This prompted the publication of a selection of her personal poems and paintings.
In my old room is a sentence from one of Bloem's poems about her Indian grandmother.
In this collection we also find poetry about her father, motherhood, her own grandmotherhood and her relationship with her husband, who was confronted with prostate cancer a few years ago.
She processed personal events such as serious illnesses in the family through poems and paintings. Scratches, smudges, strokes, letters, numbers, dots and commas across beyond and beyond.
Or no, sooner is later,
no, the past is already gone, while later will disappear much sooner than before.
And I used to think: later it will be fun, but later think: it used to be more fun, only I didn't know that about later.
And that's the nice thing about later, that you know that before you didn't know what you would know later, while later, much later, you forget everything you knew about the past, now, and even later, and even that once upon a time there was something different from the present.
On August 24, 2007 Marion Bloem turned 55. This prompted the publication of a selection of her personal poems and paintings.
In my old room is a sentence from one of Bloem's poems about her Indian grandmother.
In this collection we also find poetry about her father, motherhood, her own grandmotherhood and her relationship with her husband, who was confronted with prostate cancer a few years ago.
She processed personal events such as serious illnesses in the family through poems and paintings. Scratches, smudges, strokes, letters, numbers, dots and commas across beyond and beyond.
Home
All her life, Marion Bloem has kept a diary in which she not only writes, but also draws and paints. Her diaries contain sketches and notes that later develop into novels, stories and paintings. As the daughter of Indian migrants, she is familiar with looking for a 'home'. Bloem experiences her diaries as her most comfortable home. Past, present, dreams, fears and future find their place in this picturesque anthology. The stories she grew up with, her childhood as an Indian girl, her many travels all over the world, the love for her son, her integration into Dutch society and her feeling of being a global citizen who feels at home everywhere and nowhere, brings they are expressed in text and image.
In the room of my old days
Later, earlier disappeared.
Or no, sooner is later,
no, the past is already gone, while later will disappear much sooner than before.
And I used to think: later it will be fun, but later think: it used to be more fun, only I didn't know that about later.
And that's the nice thing about later, that you know that before you didn't know what you would know later, while later, much later, you forget everything you knew about the past, now, and even later, and even that once upon a time there was something different from the present.
On August 24, 2007 Marion Bloem turned 55. This prompted the publication of a selection of her personal poems and paintings.
In my old room is a sentence from one of Bloem's poems about her Indian grandmother.
In this collection we also find poetry about her father, motherhood, her own grandmotherhood and her relationship with her husband, who was confronted with prostate cancer a few years ago.
She processed personal events such as serious illnesses in the family through poems and paintings. Scratches, smudges, strokes, letters, numbers, dots and commas across beyond and beyond.
Or no, sooner is later,
no, the past is already gone, while later will disappear much sooner than before.
And I used to think: later it will be fun, but later think: it used to be more fun, only I didn't know that about later.
And that's the nice thing about later, that you know that before you didn't know what you would know later, while later, much later, you forget everything you knew about the past, now, and even later, and even that once upon a time there was something different from the present.
On August 24, 2007 Marion Bloem turned 55. This prompted the publication of a selection of her personal poems and paintings.
In my old room is a sentence from one of Bloem's poems about her Indian grandmother.
In this collection we also find poetry about her father, motherhood, her own grandmotherhood and her relationship with her husband, who was confronted with prostate cancer a few years ago.
She processed personal events such as serious illnesses in the family through poems and paintings. Scratches, smudges, strokes, letters, numbers, dots and commas across beyond and beyond.
Home
All her life, Marion Bloem has kept a diary in which she not only writes, but also draws and paints. Her diaries contain sketches and notes that later develop into novels, stories and paintings. As the daughter of Indian migrants, she is familiar with looking for a 'home'. Bloem experiences her diaries as her most comfortable home. Past, present, dreams, fears and future find their place in this picturesque anthology. The stories she grew up with, her childhood as an Indian girl, her many travels all over the world, the love for her son, her integration into Dutch society and her feeling of being a global citizen who feels at home everywhere and nowhere, brings they are expressed in text and image.
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