During pre-war years in the Dutch East Indies through the eyes of a child life was innocent and idyllic.

However this came to an abrupt end when WW II broke out. I just started kindergarten, but unfortunately all schools, businesses and shops were closed by the Japanese for the next four years.

Part of those years we were placed on house arrest and not allowed to go anywhere. It was a miracle that we were not sent to a concentration camp like so many other dutch people. This lasted until the end of the war and was a very lonely existence. No contact with the outside world.

My Mother taught me to read and write and  after the war the schools were re-opened, and I was able to attend primary school.

It was a few months later that we heard that my father had passed away. At the beginning of the war he joined KNIL ( Royal Dutch-Indies Army). He was taken prisoner and sent to Burma to work on the Burma railway, where he died of starvation, malnutrition and dysentery.

My Mother eventually met my future stepfather, who during one of his visits gave me a gift of colouring pencils. These items were still hard to come by. I was so excited and couldn’t wait to take them to school to show everyone. During class I placed them on my desk, so that I could admire the colours and touch them.

When recess came we all went outside, leaving my pencils on my desk. Unfortunately on our return to class the pencils were gone. Nobody owned up or confessed taken them. They were never returned to me. I was  unconsolable and heartbroken. When I told my Mother and my stepfather I didn’t receive any sympathy from them. “Should not have been so careless”!, that’s what I heard.

However having the box of colouring pencils in my possession for even such a short time, I discovered my love for colour. I am still drawn to colour and  it still dominates a big part of my life. This shows up in my artwork and daily life. Still can’t resist the feel of  colourful pencils and own several boxes of them.

This love for colour is an  an important part of my art work and is portrayed as a form of expression, dominating my creative process.

My mother also taught me to sew and embroider. The most important part became the joy to select colourful threads and fabrics for my embroidery piece or garment. The feel and touch of  these  threads  through my fingers  speaks to me, giving me enormous comfort and joy.

It wasn’t until attending art college that I “discovered “ that working with a needle as well as paint on cloth or paper gave me the same pleasure.I also became aware how the feeling of colour always has been entwined in my creative lifetime, whether it be drawing, painting or working in textiles, and how this has effected a great deal of my life’s journey.

The loss of my colouring pencils gave me the direction to follow my path.

FRANCES