I’m collecting art
without a ready made plan
as I fancy it
look now, my walls are covered
no more gathering
I don’t know whether others are born collectors, but in my case I came to becoming one bit by bit. Of art, mind you. I suppose that someone possessing more than 30 pieces of art can vindicate that description.
From an almost 2 m2 (a Dzjind, a night photography, an aluminium painting), to normal measures, from framed works to sculptures, from the artist from Ulaanbaatar and Vanessa Bell via African and Bulgarian befriended artists and a charitable painter from Rio to Herman Brood, Andy Warhol and Urbex photographer Wil Westerbeek, from Jazz coryphées and piano players to Japanese sayings and a Congolese wall tapestry, from sculptures from Zimbabwe, Katanga and India to woodcuttings from Amsterdam (de Pijp) and a wooden shrine by my father from the thirties, from family scenes via landscapes and buildings to the beauty of decay.
My humble flat has become a museum.
the art of living
and art: my good , vegan friend 
cries: art is a must
The joyous vegan, oh yes
that is Floris van den Berg
 Floris van den Berg, De vrolijke veganist. Ethiek in een veranderende wereld (The joyous vegan. Ethics in a changing world), 2013, Houtekiet, 215 pp.