Brief aan Philip Zilcken before 1928

This letter to Philip Zilcken by Rose Imel looks like it was made with a fountain pen, the sepia-toned ink bleeding into the page, forming words but also delicate marks. I can imagine Imel, bent over her desk, the nib scratching as it glides across the page. Maybe she pauses, mid-sentence, thinking, then the pen dances again, a nervous energy in those strokes. You can almost feel the weight of her thoughts, her hesitations and urgencies, pressed onto the paper. The ink pools in places, creating shadows, like the quiet doubts and unspoken feelings behind the polite pleasantries. It reminds me a little of Cy Twombly, but instead of chalk on a blackboard, it's ink on paper. This letter is a conversation, a connection, reaching across time and space. And when we look at it, we become part of that conversation, too.