Miscellaneous May

Oh dear, it looks as if I'm late for my next date with blogland again! 

Work has been quite relentless these last couple of weeks, which left me with little or no energy to sit in front of my PC of an evening. Add to this the usual pre-holiday prep, so that I won't be returning to utter chaos after my two-week holiday, and I'm sure it's no surprise that cobbling together collages and stringing words into cohesive sentences has been quite beyond me.

And then there's the not unimportant fact that this weekend we were obliged to cancel our longed-for UK getaway ...

Always a bundle of nerves in the weeks leading up to our holiday, Jos was now suffering from full-blown anxiety issues at the thought of having to travel all that way. As a result he once again lost his appetite, which at this moment he is yet to fully regain.

Heart-wrenching though it is to have to cancel - and particularly so this late in the day - we are certain that we've made the right decision. Telling my heart that this is so, however, is another matter altogether. 

In order to soften the blow, we decided to try and find somewhere closer to home, even if only for a couple of days. Enter our beloved September cottage in Poperinge. which by a stroke of luck was still having a six-night vacancy next week. To say that we are looking forward to sitting on its little balcony with a view  in a week's time is a bit of an understatement. 

But let's not be too hasty, as with most of the month of May still having to be written up I've got quite a bit of catching up to do.

The weather gods continued to be on their best behaviour on the day after we got lost in the wilderness. It was Sunday, the 11th of May, and the mercury was on the rise, reaching highs of 25°C. It would have been utter foolishness not to make the most of such glorious weather so, after having dealt with a couple of unavoidable household chores, we drove down to Solhof Park in the neighbouring village of Aartselaar. 

The vintage short-sleeved millefiori dress I'd selected for the occasion was a charity shop find in February 2024. From its multitude of colours I picked blue for my chunky plastic ring, flower embossed leather belt and vintage swallow brooch. There are a couple of blue beads in my necklace as well. Incidentally, the latter came from the charity shop near our west country cottage.

The Clarks Wave Walk shoes, which I'd picked up in a Ludlow charity shop as a replacement for my worn and battered Clarks Cloudsteppers last year, still needed to be broken in, so I decided to give them an outing that day. My feet have given them their thumbs up, but they're currently at the cobbler's as one of the shock-absorbing soles decided to part company with its host. 

Aartselaar's deliciously unkempt municipal park was once part of a castle's pleasure grounds laid out in Capability Brown inspired English landscape style. 

Today, the estate still covers 7.5 hectares and has been protected as a landscape since 1975. 

Its woodland complete with meandering sun-dappled paths and monumental 100 to 150 year old trees is perfect for an impromptu Sunday afternoon stroll. 

One of the park's attractions is the quirky knoll with its gazebo, which is built on top of an abandoned ice house. You can just catch sight of it in the photo on the top left. The ice house, which is claimed to be in excellent condition and one of the rare remaining examples in the area, is now a place of hibernation for a colony of bats.

The knoll can be climbed by way of a narrow, yew-hemmed and increasingly eroded path spiralling up to the top. Not much of a view at this time of year, though, just the merest of glimpses through the tops of the trees of the much modernized 19th Century mansion long ago turned into a hotel, and the last of the Manderley-esque Rhododendrons.

Bess was waiting for us when we got home, impatient for a cuddling session with Jos, who seems to be her current favourite, although I can't for the life of me understand why :-)

And so another weekend had come to an end with the start of a new working week following hot on its heels. And hot it definitely was with the mercury climbing into the high twenties.

My vintage 1970s cotton floral skirt was yet another old Think Twice find, while the green tartan blouse is King Louie by way of a charity shop. My comfortable red Kiarflex shoes were charity shopped too but both the stretchy orange belt and the orange cat brooch (from Katshop!) were retail buys. Not sure where I got the orange beaded necklace from, but it's been in my collection for what feels like an eternity.

Sales prices were down to € 2 at Think Twice on Monday and I couldn't believe my luck when I spotted this vintage watercolour print C&A skirt on the almost depleted rails! Never mind that it had a small tear which I was able to mend almost invisibly.

The gloriously summery weather continued on Tuesday, when I wore a charity shopped lobster print shirt paired with an orange and off-white tiered cotton skirt picked up in the C&A sales in the Summer of 2022. Both the cherry-shaped wooden beads and the lobster brooch were charity shop finds as well while the stretchy belt was found on the high street.

Wednesday's cappuccino catch-up with my friend Inez was followed by quick round of the newly replenished Think Twice rails at the start of their new collection. This dress with its eye-confusing green and pink pattern insisted on coming home with me.

The weather had taken a turn for the worse on Friday, with temperatures down to 18°C, a dismal looking grey sky and lots of wind. 

No sleeping in or leisurely breakfast that day, as I had an appointment with my dentist in the town of Boom, about 10 kilometer away, for a check-up, cleaning and a minor filling. Not fun but needs must.

While I was in the dentist's chair, Jos went for a walk around the block and reported the existence of a brand new charity shop, which obviously we needed to check out before returning home.

Aren't those light fittings fabulous?

The shop, which was immaculately laid out, didn't disappoint, as no less than four items ended up in my basket. I fell in love with a pair of wide legged giant poppy print trousers, a pair of squishy yellow shoes, a grooviliously patterned pleated maxi skirt and a chevron striped V-neck top.

As a result of the dentist's drilling, probing, scraping and polishing (ouch!) I woke up with a full blown headache on Saturday, one which refused to budge all day.

But I felt that I'd definitely earned my stripes, so I dug out a red and white Breton top - an ancient high street find - to wear with my charity shopped vintage floral skirt.

Navy belt: charity shopped

White metal and navy hearted flower brooch: flea market

Red Kiarflex shoes and multi-coloured beaded necklace as before.

After our neighbours Wes and Michèle helped us with applying for our ETA, which we would have needed to travel to the UK (sob!), I walked into town to run a couple of errands.

On my way up, I stopped to admire and photograph the exuberance of the cottage garden in front of the museum of folklore. 

More stripes on Sunday, which was a day of utter indolence as I was still nursing the dregs of Saturday's headache and was feeling quite exhausted.

The stripes in question belonged to the jumper of many colours, originally from Monki, but picked up from a charity shop a couple of years ago. My Diolen skirt was an old Think Twice find back in the pre-blog mists of time.

Gold and silver patterned boots + stretchy chevron patterned belt: charity shopped

Wooden disk necklace: Accessorize

Blue cat brooch: Katshop

I'm leaving you now with some snapshots from the jungle junkyard which in spite of our shameful neglect keeps throwing up surprises. It must be the crumbling guardian cherub who keeps things ticking over!

The white foxglove in the passageway has been joined by a batch of purple campanula which has self-seeded between the cracks in the paving. And what a joy it is to see some double saucer-shaped red Geum flowers peeking out from the wilderness. Not to mention the dusky purple nodding flowers of one of my favourites, Geranium phaeum, particularly since it seems that its sister in the passageway has done a disappearing act!

Oh, and we've got some sweet strawberries too!

I might or might not try and fit in another post before we leave, but if not, I hope to see you on the other side! 

Down memory lane

Friday the 14th of March got off to a frosty start and a bitterly cold northeast wind halted the mercury in its track at barely 6°C.

It was the day of my postponed hairdresser's appointment and by now my hair was sorely in need for its long overdue colour and cut. As I would have needed to take both a bus and a a tram to get to Antwerp, which would have taken forever, Jos took pity on me and drove me to the nearby town of Mortsel which offers the relative luxury of two tram options. I hopped onto tram 7, which was the first to come along and the most straightforward, with a stop just around the corner from the salon. 

This was what I was wearing to combat the day's chill factor. Again the outfit is brought to you by Angelica as by the time my two-hour session at the salon had finished and I'd finally made it home again, I had lost the will to live. Or at least to make the effort of taking outfit photos!

The caramel button-through cord skirt was an irresistible retail buy back in October 2021, while the striped jumper, originally from New Look, followed me home from a charity shop one day.

Black and white was the theme for my accessories, which included one of my stretchy belts found on the high street, a carved ceramic heart brooch from a craft shop in Cardigan, and a charity shopped string of black and white ceramic beads. 

I was early for my 11.30 appointment, so I made a little detour by meandering along a couple of side streets. Once upon a time these were as familiar as the back of my hand, as they lead to the old punk haunts we frequented on Friday and Saturday nights in the late 1970s.

I must have walked past these Neoclassical entrance gates, giving access to Antwerp's Royal Academy of Fine Arts, countless of times back in the day, peering through its railings at the garden with its atmospheric 16th and 17th century former monastery buildings.

Founded in 1663 by the painter David Teniers the Younger, the Antwerp Academy was one of the first art schools in the world. Over the centuries the academy with its historic campus has become an established name in the international art world. It is also the home of the world-renowned Antwerp Fashion Academy, which was founded in 1963.

It took until well into the 1980s for me to step through its gates, when first a boyfriend and then my sister were students here for a year, reading photography and architecture respectively.

The intermittent sunny spells accompanied by a wind chill which turned the air frigid continued through the weekend. 

For a day of running an errand followed by a spot of pottering on Saturday, my forest green suedette skirt from Mango came out to play again, making it officially my most-worn Winter skirt. This time around, its main companion was a funky green and tan shirt by the Danish InWear label, charity shopped almost exactly a year ago.

Accessories were a vintage caramel beaded necklace and big green bird on a branch brooch, both supplied by the charity shop goddesses, and a stretchy belt with a leopard print buckle picked up from the high street.

On Sunday, for a day of household chores, catching up with blogland and joining Bess on the sofa with my latest read, I wore a long-sleeved Trevira fit and flare dress found at Think Twice in September 2023.

There's a tiny bit of green in its pattern, which I picked up with my accessories.

Both my brooch and beaded necklace came from the indoor flea market - which for obvious reasons we'e been giving a miss so far this season - while the elasticated belt with its gold-tone lion's head buckle was a charity shop find.

We were treated to some gorgeous Spring weather half-way through the working week that followed, with temperatures nudging 20°C on Wednesday the 19th.

As variety is the spice of life, I decided to seek out pastures new during my lunch break and took the tram to Het Zuid, Antwerp's fashionable south district. After several decades of decline, the area has seen a revival since the mid 1980s and is now one of the most trendy neighbourhoods in the city.

30-odd years ago, in what feels like another lifetime, I used to live around the corner from this impressive Neoclassical building.

This is the Royal Museum of Fine Arts Antwerp (KMSKA), which showcases seven centuries of top art, ranging from the Flemish Primitives to modern masters, with prominent roles for Peter Paul Rubens and James Ensor. 

In 1877, Antwerp City Council held a competition to design a new museum, but none of the entries was entirely convincing. The city eventually invited the young architects Jean Jacques Winders (1849-1936) and Frans Van Dijk (1853-1939) to combine their respective designs in a single plan. 

They took everything into account, from a sense of grandeur to functionality and security. After six years of construction work, the new museum was opened to the public on 11 August 1890.

In 1905, the pair of chariots designed by sculptor Thomas Vinçotte (1850–1925), with a team of two horses and a charioteer apiece, were hoisted to the roof by a dozen men. They were intended to symbolize the triumph of art and have been the emblem of the museum ever since they were installed.

Behind the museum, and even closer to where I lived, is this stunning Art Nouveau house. Affectionately known as Het Bootje (transl. the little boat) because of its corner balcony shaped like a ship’s prow, it was built in 1901 for an Antwerp ship builder called P. Roeis. It was designed by Frans Smet-Verhas (1851-1925), who was one of the leading Art Nouveau architects in Antwerp. 

My trip down memory lane took on a bittersweet taste when I rounded the corner of the street I used to live on for nearly ten years, from 1985 until 1994. My heart made a little uncomfortable jolt when faced with my former home on the first floor of the white-painted house in the below collage. The windows and the railings of the tiny balcony were painted white back then, and the façade had clearly received an upgrade from its peeling late eighties, early nineties incarnation. 

Alhough I was reasonably contented during the first handful of years I lived here, they were heady times, and it took me a rather wasteful amount of time to admit to my insecurity and that I wasn't really happy in my own skin.

I took my time returning to the office on foot, basking in the glorious early Spring sunshine and slightly sweating in the coat I'd still been in need of when I left home that morning. Thankfully I'd had the presence of mind to remove my cardigan before setting forth from the office.

On the top right, you can see part of the large monument called Schelde Vrij (transl. Free Scheldt) which was inaugurated in 1873 to commemorate the settlement with the Netherlands that allowed for the free passage of ships to Antwerp, which was vital for the city’s maritime commerce. Standing triumphantly at the top is Neptune, god of the sea, holding a trident in his right hand, and popularly known as Jef Ferket, the latter being Antwerp slang for the Flemish word vork (which obviously means fork).

My outfit that day consisted of a vintage skirt, which is one of my oldest in terms of ownership. You can see a close-up of its textured fabric, with its touches of red, green,white and black, in the below collage. 

The white blouse with its profusion of different sized blue and red dots, is from the defunct Belgian Wow To Go label and came to me by way of a charity shop.

The red chunky knit cardigan is King Louie and was bought from an outlet shop in Poperinge in Belgium's west country back in the mists of time. To its lapel I pinned a vintage daisy brooch found on a flea market. If I remember correctly, it came from the Brooch Lady's vast collection.

Finally, both the blue stone necklace and the red plastic butterfly brooch were charity shop finds.

So, that's it for now. Would the gorgeous Spring weather continue in the run-up to the weekend? You'll read all about it in my next post, which I'm hoping to cobble together very soon.

The funny tricks of time

Can you believe we are mid-March already? Surely, some trickster has been tinkering with the concept of time, making it go faster, and faster still. Not that it actually feels like it at time of writing, as a deceptively icy wind is putting paid to the illusion created by the blue sky spied through our windows,  but in just a handful of days astronomical Spring will be upon is. 

My blog, a couple of paces behind real life at the best of times, is now definitely dragging its feet, which are still firmly planted back in February, almost exactly one month ago to the day.

Before I proceed to tell you about February's penultimate week, however, let me tell you that even though there's still some way to go for Jos to be restored to perfect health, he is going from strength to strength and is doing surprisingly well given the ordeal he's been through.

Right, into the time machine it goes again, setting the controls for Sunday 16 February. 

As the weather gods presented us with lots of sunny spells but highs of only 3°C, it was definitely still jumper weather. The one which made the grade that day was an orange and green wing-collared vintage jumper I picked up from Think Twice in  December 2023.

Its companion, a forest green suedette skirt bought brand new at Mango many years ago and last worn back in December. It's super soft and very strokable, its only downside being a lack of pockets.

The enamelled metal brooch I pinned to the jumper - featuring an Edelweiss, a Gentian and a couple of smaller daisy-like flowers - is vintage and was a flea market find back in the mists of time. A search on my blog tells me I bought it from the Brooch Lady, if you remember her. I can't help but wondering if this feisty lady - who was already well into her eighties last time we met in November 2019 - is still around today.

The wooden beaded necklace - which reminded Kezzie of cherries in various stages of ripeness - was a charity shop find.

After tackling those bothersome yet necessary household chores in the morning, we decided upon a walk at Fort 5 in the afternoon.

Those of you who have been reading my blog for a while might remember our frequent previous visits here. This is, in fact, the nearest nature reserve of any significance to Dove Cottage, only involving a mere 10 minute drive up the road to the outskirts of the neighbouring village of Edegem.

Here and there, in the odd places the sun hadn't been able reach, were some remnants of the flurries of snow we'd had earlier that week.

I was glad of the warmth of my favourite Winter coat, my orange velvet sales bargain turban from Think Twice and the chunky orange scarf I'd picked up in the sales in January. 

We started our walk alongside the moat, where water birds of various plumage are ruling the roost.

The sun and the wind were playing games with the water, rippling it with sparkly sun glitter, which momentarily blinded us and made me regret I'd left my sunnies behind in the car.

The path along the moat eventually takes us through some of the old fort buildings. Dating from the 1860s, Fort 5 is part of a ring of 8 almost identical forts surrounding the city of Antwerp, most of which are still in existence today. Those which do have been turned into nature reserves and recreational areas, with part of the buildings being used by a variety of local clubs.

The brick and sandstone buildings half-hidden among the undergrowth, their woodwork in various stages of dereliction and their crumbling brickwork covered in graffiti, are very atmospheric but more than just a tiny bit creepy. Carrying the weight of over a century's worth of trees upon their roofs surely must be a recipe for disaster ... 

The sunny yet bitterly cold weather continued on Monday, when almost 300 emails awaited me at the office. Thankfully, they weren't all for me to deal with but I still needed to trawl through the lot. So much for working only a 4-day week, I'm always being punished for my 3-day weekends on a Monday.

I had to dash to the shops during lunch break, as I had a mission. Back in the January sales, I'd bought a cotton peasant-style blouse in delicious shade of magenta from a shop in the small shopping centre near my office. As so far the weather hadn't been conductive to wearing it, I'd put it aside in my pile of yet-to-be-worn items. It was when I was dressing up Angelica to photograph said items during the weekend that I noticed the blouse still had its security tag! Thankfully, I'd kept my receipt. Although the alarm hadn't gone off when I left the shop after my purchase, it did do so when I walked in to have the tag removed. Needless to say, and only rightly so, they were very apologetic when I explained the matter!

Tuesday's weather was a repeat of both Sunday's and Monday's but as the wind had more or less died down, I walked to Antwerp's Botanic Garden (a.k.a. Den Botaniek) during lunch break.

Its main entrance is on a street called Leopoldstraat, which is only a couple of minutes from my office and Antwerp's main shopping thoroughfare, the Meir. I came across this postcard from a bygone age on Facebook, showing a much quieter and more dignified street than it is today with its non-stop stream of traffic. On the left you can see the Botanic Garden's retaining balustrade topped with ornate late 19th Century cast iron lamp posts.

Both the balustrade and the lamp posts, each bearing a trio of copper lamps, are still in situ today. No longer lighted by gas, its mantles having been replaced with electric light bulbs a long time ago, it is nevertheless a trick of the (sun) light which makes them glow here ...

Den Botaniek is a landscaped botanical garden dating back to 1825 and covers an area of slighty ​​less than one hectare. The garden has a collection of 2000 plants and a magnificent conservatory which houses a number of cacti and other exotic plants. The city's website claims that the conservatory is closed on Sundays only but although I've been coming here on weekday lunch breaks for many years, it never seems to be open. I'll have to investigate or, better still, ask one of the gardeners when they're around.

The pond was partly frozen and there was no sign of the Koi fish who live here. Apart from a plethora of Hellebores and the odd patch of Winter Aconites, there wasn't much in bloom, particularly when compared to the same time last year. It's not that it has been such a harsh Winter, so perhaps this is due to a distinct lack of sunshine and far too much rain? 

Wednesday was another day of sunny spell with a slight increase in temperature to 6°C. We'll be having a heatwave soon, I'm sure. This was my view when I walked to the office, with the  Art Deco skyscraper which is my office's opposite neighbour batching in golden early morning sunshine. 

It as a welcome sight for sore eyes, even if it was my ear(s) rather than my eyes which were bothering me that day. I'd woken up with a blocked left ear, which is one of the recurring banes of my life.  

Thankfully, things had greatly improved when I got back from my lunch break walk. Perhaps the fact that I found this fabulous frilly-yoked vintage dress in a pop-up shop was part of the cure?

Another temperature boost on Thursday, when the mercury climbed to an unheard of 11°C. Unfortunately, the sun was playing hide-and-seek that day ...

Trying to find things that make me smile every day, I looked up as I returned from running a lunch break errand, my eyes alighting on the bronze eagle with spread wings perching upon one of the shops, designed and built in eclectic style in 1895 by architect Joseph Hertogs (1861-1930). The eagle was sculpted by Alphonse Van Beurden (1856-1938), who also designed the sculptures on the façade of the Museum of Fine Arts in Antwerp. In the United Kingdom, he is renowned for his ivory sculptures, and between 1887 and 1904 he exhibited thirteen times at the Royal Academy of Art.

How strange that I never noticed the eagle before ...

The sun returned from wherever she had been hiding on Friday and helped the mercury climb to 16°C. I told you we might be in for a heatwave ...

I had an appointment for a much needed colour and cut at my hairdresser's but when I walked into the salon at the appointed time Michel looked at me quite oddly. It appeared that he'd got the timing wrong and had jotted down the appointment for 21 March instead of 21 February. He was all apologetic, obviously. Having been my hairdresser for 30 years running, apologies were duly accepted, even if I'd had to get up at the crack of dawn and come all the way to Antwerp on my day off for nothing. A new appointment was pencilled in for two weeks later and after a welcome cup of coffee and a chat I was on my way home again.

I'm finishing this post with a look at Friday's outfit, which was built around one of my favourite Finnish vintage frocks. Much to my dismay, it hadn't made it out of my wardrobe yet this season.

I took my lead from the muted green in its Art Deco-style pattern for my bamboo buckled stretchy belt and swallows in flight brooch, while the orangey bits inspired my opaques, ring and beaded necklace. Only the latter of my accessories was a second hand find, while the rest had its origins on the high street. The brooch was picked up from a gem of a shop in Cardigan during one of our Welsh holidays, way before I started my blog.

And now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to join Ms. Bess for a nap on the sofa.

See you soon!

An update and a flashback

I'm guessing some of you must be on tenterhooks to know how Jos is doing, so it's only fair to start this post with an update. So, before I take you on a little trip in the time machine, let me tell you about the rollercoaster ride of a week we've just had.

Although Jos is currently doing as well as can be, unfortunately things didn't go exactly as planned, and what should have been a short hospital stay of one or maximum two nights has turned into six.

After dropping him off at the hospital on the morning of Friday the 28th and helping him settle in, the staff turfed me out kindly requested me to leave. I called Inez, who cycled over to the hospital - she only lives 5 mins away - and kept me company while we had coffee and a bite to eat in the excellent cafetaria. Then I bussed home to a confused Bess. 

Jos's op was planned for 1.30 pm and I was told to call for news at around 4. When I finally got through to the ward at the appointed time they said he was only just out of theatre and in recovery, and I was advised to call again in an hour. 

About twenty minutes later I returned from the bathroom to two missed calls from a withheld number.  Knowing instinctively that it must have been someone from the hospital, and keeping in mind having been told I would only be contacted in case of complications, I'm sure you can imagine the state I was in. In a blind panic, I called the hospital and eventually was able to speak to a doctor, who told me that Jos had woken up short of breath and in considerable pain all over his body. Turned out that this was caused by fluid having leaked into his abdomen lining during the procedure of inserting a so-called suprapubic catheter in his abdomen.

Surrounded by an army of doctors - as recalled by Jos - he was then rushed off for tests, including a CTI scan, which thankfully all came back negative. He was given pain relief and had to stay the night in ICU. Thankfully most of the fluid had gone of its own accord by morning as had most of the pain, so that he was able to be transferred to a room on the ward. However, his bladder still needed to be flushed with sterile liquid to remove any blood clots, which took rather a bit longer than expected.

He was finally able to come home on Thursday evening, but while he is feeling surprisingly well at the time of writing, it might take another couple of weeks until he is back to some kind of normal. To say that we're both beyond exhausted is a bit of an understatement.

Once again, I'm dipping into my stash of photos from way back in February, so I'm urging you to fasten your seatbelts so that I can whizz you back to Saturday the 15th of that month.

With highs of only 2°C - as opposed to the Springlike 18°C we've been enjoying today - it was clear that my warm Winter stuff had to work for its money another day.

One of my favourite skirts, a vintage polyester and mohair blend find from Think Twice, came out to play, and was joined by a charity shopped purple and silver vintage C&A jumper. My lilac beret was last year's fast fashion buy, while my purple Western-style ankle boots were picked up from an outlet shop near my office back in December.

To the jumper's assymetrical collar, I pinned a fabric covered badge bought from a craft market held in a neighbours' garden about 13 years ago. The black and white beaded necklace was yet another charity shop find and the chevron patterned stretchy belt with its square black plastic buckle was part of a haul from a bargain shop last Spring.

After a seemingly endless string of gloomy days, we finally woke up to sunny spells that Saturday. By the time we'd finished the day's chores and had lunch, these had become few and far between. However, as it was set to remain dry we drove down to Middelheim for a breath of fresh air and a stroll.

An icy wind was doing its best to thwart us by making our eyes water and having a nip at any exposed extremities. 

Not to be deterred, we walked towards the Organic Brutalist marvel which is the Braem Pavillion. Designed by architect Renaat Braem (1910-2001) and completed in 1971, I've got a soft spot for this white painted concrete and brick building, its flowing horizontal lines blending organically into the park landscape.

Dating from 1971 and thus a contemporary of the Braem Pavilion, Bosque Metalica consists of eight separate elements in black, green, orange and yellow. The sculpture is by the Mexican artist Jorge Dubon (1938-2004).

Vierkantrohre Serie D (below, top right) by German artist Charlotte Posenenske (1930-1985) has been attached to the side wall of the Braem Pavilion since 2017. It consists of a set of six hollow forms made of galvanized metal that appear to be part of an industrial ventilation shaft. Very convincingly, it seems, as I only found out this was actually a work of art while I was browsing the museum's online catalogue a couple of years ago.

The flying saucer almost directly below the faux ventilation shaft (above, top and bottom right) is by the legendary Panamarenko (1940-2019), who is considered one of the greatest Belgian artists of the second half of the 20th century. Many of his works are based on the dream of flying and the mythical character of Icarus. 

There's currently an exhibition of his work on the occasion of what would have been his 85th birthday, running from 31 January to 4 May in Antwerp's KMSKA museum.

After posing on the Braem Pavilion's back steps, offering a glimpse of my purple opaques and moss green suede boots, we walked around the corner and admired some of the works of art which are currently sharing the Pavilion's limelight.

Top left and right is 1/24 x 23 x 22 x ... x 1 (1970) by Belgian abstract painter and sculptor Bert De Leeuw (1926 - 2007). This sculpture consists of four separate cubic shapes, which can be stacked on top of each other in a different order as well as rotate on their axis. Hence, the artwork can take on many different forms.

Bottom left and right is Solskulptur (1969-1970) by Norwegian sculptor Arnold Haukeland (1920-1983).  It is a preliminary study for a nineteen-meter-high sculpture standing in Veritas Park in Baerum, Norway. The memorial was commissioned by Niels Onstad, in memory of his late wife Sonja Henie, a former figure skater. The three rings around the diagonal refer to the Olympic champion's skating moves.

At this point, it was almost inevitable that we would end up in the much maligned Open-Air Depot. On our way up, we spotted Sirene (1934, bottom right), created by another Belgian sculptor, Henri Puvrez (1893-1971). The marble mermaid, who is lovingly holding a fish, is currently encased in a protective cover to combat the elements.

Having arrived at the depot, we spotted Sei Personaggi (Six Figures, 1957 - above, top right) by Luciano Minguzzi (1911-2004) and Tempesta (1956, bottom left) by Carmelo Cappello (1912-1996).

Obviously I couldn't pass Belgian sculptor Félix Roulin's (1931) Colonne. Dating from 1975, it is one of my favourites and I find it impossible to resist its reflective possibilities. Silhouetted against the sky, which at that moment was pin-pricked by a ray of sunshine, it is looking hauntingly atmospheric.

There are nearly a mind-boggling 90 works of art in the depot, more than in any of the other park zones, and I can't help feeling sorry for them. 

I'm sure the subdued figure staring solemnly into the distance (above, bottom right) is sharing my feelings exactly. The sculpture is called Grafmonument (Funerary Monument), dates from 1930, and was created by Belgian sculptor Emiel Poetou (1885-1975).

Meanwhile, San Francesco (1957) by the Italian Marcello Mascherini (1906-1983) is raising his arms in despair as another visiting couple was admonished by one of the park wardens (whom the orange bike belongs to) not to touch the sculptures. I might have told him that the museum wasn't exactly treating the sculptures with due respect either.

And look who's here! If it isn't the (Mad) Professor (1969, top left and bottom right) by Hungarian sculptor Imre Varga (1923-2019). I wonder if he remembers the conversation we had back in March 2019.

I'm sure that Running Girl (1976) created by Kurt Gebauer (°1941) remembers our last meeting, though.

I'll be back with further updates and flashbacks soon!