Protected by my Household Gods


My personal guardians come from a small gallery in Lithuania. I saw them on an exhibition in Vilnius and travelled some hours up country to meet the artist at her studio. A friend of a friend agreed to take them along when he was going home. As he had not much time I met him on a parking and ordered my taxi driver to look out for a green Opel. He did not hide that he was worried. May be, he suspected me of smuggling weapons or drugs.


Here they are looking at my mixture of African necklace cum German dress cum Malaysian bag not to speak of the belt from Guadaloupe where there is dancing everywhere. 





I like to think that my gods are looking benevolently. That’s what household gods are meant to, aren’t they?
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