Briefkaart aan Andries Bonger before 1923

This is a postcard to Andries Bonger, probably from sometime in the late 19th century, made with ink on paper by Emile Bernard. It’s so personal, like he’s just jotted down his thoughts, almost stream-of-consciousness. What grabs me is the texture of the handwriting. It’s so immediate, like the words are tumbling out of him. The ink varies in darkness, some lines thick and confident, others thin and hesitant, you can almost feel the pressure of his hand. Look at the way he forms the letters, the loops and crosses, it’s a dance of intention and accident, almost like abstract expressionism. The whole thing feels so intimate, like eavesdropping on a private conversation. But isn’t that what art is? A way of sharing our inner lives, even with strangers, across time and space? It reminds me of Cy Twombly, the way he used writing and mark-making to create these beautiful, chaotic compositions. It's as if the act of writing becomes a form of drawing, and the words themselves become shapes, full of potential meaning and ambiguity.