I moved to a temporary sublet in Rijswijk in September 2020. I exchanged money and keys in the middle of the night after an eleven hours drive and suddenly found myself living in a flat full of very personal looking sculptures, drawings, photographs, postcards.
A little mother Mary bottle by the bath, wild plants, melted candles.
I was shopping in a grocery store, surely the same one that my landlady used for shopping. I painted my toenails with nail polish I found on the kitchen's floor. I felt that my presence filled some void, some identity that was already formed. I was renting not only her flat.

After I moved out, we arranged a meeting in the house. While she was making tea for us, I was sitting quietly on the sofa, noticing every little thing that had changed. The rug on the wall, the Jesus picture, the plants – the house smelled differently.
I was a guest there and it felt clear.I showed her the photographs and asked how she felt about them.
She said “it's interesting, like somebody took my being and put it into another body, filled some gap”

I knew exactly what she meant.