Processionem Tenebris
Processionem Tenebris
And then there are these dreams…
Every night another one.
Different night, different animal walking on the roofs of the sleeping city.
One night a wolf.
Another night a tiger.
Then a raven.
Then something that shouldn’t exist.
The rooftops are theirs.
The city never notices.
But I do.
Tonight, it is the rabbit.
But not the kind you’d chase through a meadow. This one has wings—leathery, bat-like things that whisper as they flap. Its fur is matted, its eyes too human, too knowing. It doesn’t hop. It glides. And it watches.
The rabbit lands on a chimney and tilts its head. Below, the city dreams. But something is wrong. The buildings seem older than they should be, warped and hunched like sleeping giants. Windows blink open and shut. Doors breathe. The rabbit listens.
Then comes the raven, its feathers slick with something darker than night. It croaks once, and the sound echoes through the alleys like a warning. Together, they move. Not hunting. Not fleeing. Just… searching.
Each night, the dreamer wakes with the taste of soot and feathers in their mouth. The animals are never the same, but the feeling is. A message is being delivered, piece by piece, like a puzzle made of shadows.
And the dreamer knows: one night, the animal will stop walking.
It will find the door.
And it will come inside.

Claudia Hendzel
Meer van deze kunstenaar
Ontdek open calls
Word uitgedaagd door heel diverse open calls of verspreid je eigen open call hier.
Vind kunstenaars
Zoek naar kunstenaars in je buurt of naar werk in een specifieke techniek.
Ontwerp: Studio Mast | Website: eps en kaas