I live in an archive. A collection of stuff that somehow caught my eye and spoke to me. The record I bought at a flea market, because it reminded me of my childhood.
When I was a girl about the age of the Wilma in the photograph, she was a popular Dutch singer. Back then I was living in a village, to me it meant my name could go places.
Put against my wonderwall in 2017, it is amazing how far apart the stories lie.