Prologue by Michel Evrard-Thøelen
I had the immense pleasure of living with a marvellous wife named Carole Dekeijser.
She was a particularly intelligent woman who was passionately interested in absolutely everything. We shared an interest in philosophy, psychology, history, art, architecture and science.
She was a genius philosopher who know how to paint onto canvas the result of her intellectual research.
She was my passion.
She was my job.
She was my hobby.
She was my teammate, my co-pilot.
She was my conscience, my teacher of Life.
She died on May 2nd, 2008, after three months of agony, surrounded by an ocean of Love.
I lived in total happiness for 28 years of humour, thrilling conversations and general sharing.
Together, we founded associations and companies destined to promote art, scientific vulgarisation and several social activities.
Not one day passed when we didn’t savour our luck in living together, surrounded by a multitude of true friends, our life far removed from futility.
She is dead...
I am alone, but not unhappy.
I am dreadfully sad, but not unhappy.
Neither she, nor I were made to live alone. We both still had plenty to give to those around us.
I stay alone, but not without goals. I must continue what we started.
She would never have wanted my life to stop at the same time as hers, and that is why I have chosen to stay.
For 28 years, I lived aside a beautiful woman with a refined athlete’s physique, a quick mind, witty humour and surprising intelligence.
She had panache, luxurious make-up on a tiny budget, making the most of her body through respect for Life.
She was as beautiful outside as in through love of Life.
She charismatically filled the assemblies we attended.
She seduced medias of all sorts.
By her side, I was a true Man.
She was a woman of peace, but not non-violent.
She could not stand conflict, but understood battles.
She had practiced many martial arts, shot with heavy guns, but she was a highly moral negotiator.
Together, we lived in true happiness, for us and especially for others.
No, I don’t regret it.
I wish others could have our 28 years of happiness.
Remember Her.
Drawing is forgetting what we know to express what we can see and remind others of what they know.
