Dress: Moonlight/ Leather Jacket: Only/ Shoes: H&M/ Tights: Wibra/ Ribbon in my hair: Wrapping from a gift

The Day of the Deaf is an annual event given on the 4th Saturday of September. The Dutch event was this year given at my sister's school with the theme: Visual Enrichment. Deaf artists were given a spotlight to show their work. This varied from paintings to woodworking. As said, the artists were all deaf, so communication between us didn't went so smooth.

While walking around I noticed that the chance of interrupting a conversation was ten times higher than usual. Everyone was talking in hand gestures and apparently that takes a lot of space. 
I'm a total hand gesture rookie (I can spell my dogs name and I know the sign for sea turtle... like that's something that will come up in every conversation).

Source

 It was very clear that it was the Day of the Deaf and for once the hearing (us) felt a bit lost/confused/ not being accounted with, but I just think that many deaf people feel like this in "my" world (hereby not meaning that the world is mine... though domination is coming closer every day).


Besides that all, there was a clown. I don't like clowns. This clown saw me and thought "I'm going to make her laugh... or scare her so bad that she'll have a trauma for ever and ever and ever". He did the last one. I just really don't like clowns. 

Years ago (when I was about 16 years old) I had a Drama exam (Spoilers: I passed) and we had to make our own production. So I'd written a detective, set in a circus called "Grand Opening". The ringmaster welcomes us all into his circus and than tragically dies on stage (Grand Opening indeed). From there on, an all knowing manic Columbo-esque detective comes to the scene and interviews all the weird and wonderful people you can think of hanging around a circus. One of those creatures was a clown. A creepy clown who hates kids and basically dislikes everything and everyone that has ever excisted in our universe... played by me. My mum even made me a clown suit (that I still own) and my face was totally whited. The contours of my face were highlighted with black and my lips were coloured blood red. After a long and thorough research, we got a confession of the killer of the ringmaster (Spoilers: It was the accountant).

Love,
Dominique