Wendelien Bakker

Postcard From...
Postcard From...

Postcard From...

Dear Christchurch,

I’ll pretend I’m writing this from Rome. I’ll pretend that I am still in my studio at the British school, the grey dusty floors that are never clean, my collected pebbles from the tennis court all over the floor. Small offcuts of marble; pastel greens, pinks and glittery whites collected near the Basilica di San Lorenzo leaning against the walls and in the sink.