Snoeien, Vloeien, Verslinden

My skin stretched like a fence too small for what lived within. An enclosed garden built of flesh instead of stone. The garden lay tight beneath my skin. Within that boundary, a path snaked between my muscles, gently tapping against my long nails. Something grew there that circulated not air, but blood.

For the exhibition *pruning, flowing, devouring*, the collective Roos acted as gardeners in an attempt to bring order to a garden that does not exist. Robin planted a fence that both defined and invited, Michelle crossed what grew and pruned what emerged, Puk watched about the cycle of life and decay, and Milou guided what transformed within that garden.