It’s your average, boring, girlfriendless Wednesday afternoon. I estimate that I am about eight years old, at least I no longer have problems with his hand. I run ahead of my father through the Eyserbos. Suddenly, apparently unexpectedly, he hides behind the familiar thick tree again. Not far from the pumping station, actually nothing is very far in the Eyserbos, we discover a hatch on the ground between the leaves. A large rusty hatch covering a large dark hole. My fantasy awakens and I look in infinitely deep black. Is this a place of the witches? But my father suggests two options: a hideout for war soldiers, or a ranger’s secret place. The first one seems like something. Shelter for when bombs drop, I have to remember that just in case. A great hiding place. But anyway, a dark hole in the ground, there is something about it. Then there must be more. And maybe there is one more. For the rest of my life the hole will haunt my mind. I want to see it again, but no matter how many times I cross the forest, I can’t find it anymore. A few years ago I asked him if he could remember exactly where it was. He looked at me and said to my great surprise: “There is no shutter Miek, you must have made it up” and he smiled almost disdainfully. For the first time I start to question his memory, or mine. Were our walks real, or did his fantasy creep into me?

From the book: “Secrets of the Piepert” – Annemiek Mommers

Annemiek Mommers’ exhibition in the Jacques Vonkzaal will last until September 20, 2020, more information: