A white page is the starting point for a line. Out of this line arises a feminine line. Geometrical thoughts flowing out of the head. A veil covers the thoughts, the real one is covered by the veil. Love, a man sleeping, satisfied as a baby The veil moves as streaming water with fish. These are sharks, they are waiting for their prey. It can be the woman or the moon, who is shining on the dark side of her brain.

Out of the tulip arises more. Winged friend with tears in his eye. Tears on the outside. Lines as slopes of landscapes of the inner, A source of perspective. The tulip in the centre, standing bare in his simplicity, spying eye glances and strokes with his bill the soft erotic line of the bulb bottom.