“Thoughtful and tender images where poetry is almost physically present. An existential reconciliation with the past. You find human alienation but also moments of raw intimacy.” / Anders Petersen Excerpt from Bob Hansson’s afterword: “The years pass. One bears one’s thorns under one’s hat. The years pass and we learn to eat our dinner in front of the sofa instead of behind it. We who appear to be entirely normal. That pleases the others. The others don’t want to eat dinner behind sofas. They want to have a nice time. We know that they deserve it. So we have made an effort. We don’t want to trouble them with the things that almost destroyed us, no we don’t want that. For we survived. We are sitting here. Or not. Some of us are still sitting behind the sofa in the shadow. Some of us can hardly smile without feeling occupied by alien powers. Fraudulent. Some of us have to do our best, to furnish a home in the ditch. Some of us have to remain in the exclusion we were banished to long ago. Decorate with rag rugs in the mud as best as we can.”