Contemplations on the Odu Oyekun Otura

Fragments of a past that is no longer haunt my drive on this rainy day. The door that once welcomed me now looks back at me, a stranger contemplating its own destiny, devoid of recognition as I pass it. Once in, I find a museum filled with a world that was mine and is no longer. Looking at different pieces bring back fleeting memories intermingled with curiosity at new pieces added to the installation curated by another. You can never go back. Once the bell is rung, it can't be unheard, and so one can only hope to ring other bells, whose sound might ring sweet in the mind of another.  -- marcos ifalola