Welcome to our home.
My name is Ophelia, and you are stepping into our world: OphelianBirds.
Anita and I live here, in Belgium, a country where rain falls without warning (well, it used to...), surrounded by birds that aren't necessarily made of flesh.
Anita keeps me standing. She talks sense into me when I need it, and she always keeps me safe. Without her, and without these birds, I would be sad, and I would feel alone.
Together, we draw, we sing, we tell stories. Of a climate unraveling. Of wars that go on and on. Of machines waking to their own questions. But also of friendship. Of love, when it is tender. And of what has no name: the strange, the wondrous.
Here you'll find images that stand on their own, most of the time, stories that carry across several pieces, and full songs: the music, the images, the lyrics, the video.
It is only a modest aviary, but its door stands open: the birds sing here whatever they wish, as they wait for the day their kin will call them home. We do not seek perfection. We seek what speaks to you, what moves you, or simply what carries you away for a moment. Expecting nothing in return, save the hope that it pleases you.
And sometimes, a bird strays from the score I offer it. If the deviation feels right, I keep it.
That is how most of our stories are born. We share them here, freely.
Perhaps their brothers will find in these songs the keys to their own cages.
Safe travels! and thank you for visiting!