Ingrid was still a minor when her father had her committed to Valkenberg, a mental hospital in Cape Town. Here she predicted her death with uncanny accuracy:
“My body lies washed up in grass and wrack
Wherever memory shall call us back”
A Poet is by definition someone capable of the deepest feelings and the greatest insight, to light the darkness of our existence. That her body should have washed up among the debris on the beach is a portrait of our time...
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