c’est pas grave d’être wiertz… aussi non weirds!
i pass by this monument every almost second day, but today it was the first time to spend a few seconds and read the inscription i noticed: WIERTZ. and oops! my flemish friendly german accent could not help pronouncing it the weird way. who are you, mr weird, anyway?
well, antoine joseph wiertz was a belgian artist, whose masterpieces are exposed in musée wiertz that used to be his family house in ixelles, only a few steps far from this very blyckaerts square. now that i already know my next best culture stop in brussels, i may well reflect on weirdness once again… the one i own, the one i’ve lost, the one i long for. no matter how hard it is to discern the fine line between a genuine weirdo and a simply jerk, give it a try to find out your other half, re-defining being weird as being unique, in a way that only this one can tell.
set fire to (politically) correct routine and let’s be weird together.
– give me a reason you fell for me once.
– maybe because you are weird.
– why did you ran away?
– maybe i was not weird enough for you.
end of citation.