Evelyn Meeuwen Whore ❤️❤️

About Mons

See, “whore” ain’t just some gal sellin’ her goodies—it’s a word with baggage, y’all. Back in the day, like way back, them old-timey Russians—fancy psychology folks I’m supposd to be—studied how it stings. They said it’s a slap to the soul, a label that sticks like gum in your hair. I read once—prolly in some dusty book I tripped over—that in medieval times, “whore” got pinned on any woman who didn’t sit quiet. Ain’t that a hoot? Makes me wanna holler, “Well, bless their hearts, they’d hate me then!”

Niet mensenschuw

We beginnen met drie veel voorkomende meeuwen. De zilvermeeuw, de kleine mantelmeeuw en de grote mantelmeeuw. Een volwassen zilvermeeuw kan sterk op andere meeuwen lijken .

Anyway, that’s the word on Meeuwen (be). It’s like a groovy tapestry of little surprises and major feels. Every street tells a story. Every corner sparks a memory. Sometimes I get all nostalgic, you know? Hell, I might even age like a fine wine! But for now, it's all spa, love, and life here. Swinging, baby, swinging!

Australia’s Venice exhibition creative directors