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Painting
23 May 2023

Painting

There are many things in life I feel I’m not up to doing. Before even trying I have the tendency to think I won’t be able to do it. Fear of failure is, and has been, always a biggie for me. So when professional painters started painting the outside of my apartment building I was ready to let them do the whole thing, including my balcony. Of course that meant a lot of extra money to spend. And if there’s one thing I have to be careful with it’s money.

Help

But my nephew and a friend of his offered to do the job instead which would help a lot. Now many of you know I’m not the most patient person in the world. So when it was time to start on my balcony and the boys weren’ immediately available I thought I’d start already to make the job easier for them. I have never painted before. But how hard can it be, right? First the sanding, which after an hour of hard work I’d had enough of.

No fun

Sanding is no fun. Especially doing everything by hand. No worries, a friend had a machine I could use. This worked a lot better. After a couple of days I was finally ready for the fun job. Let’s start on the painting. I’m not short, but I would need a ladder to get to the higher parts. With my fear of heights I was not looking forward to stand on a ladder, on the balcony. That’s twice the fear. At that time I talked to my niece who’d spend a vacation near an amusement park. She had enjoyed a rollercoaster ride. She answered my question if she had no fear of heights with ‘Oh yes I’m terrified, but my will is stronger than any kind of fear.’

Wow

Would that work in my case as well? Knees shaking and legs trembling I climbed the ladder. I concentrated on not looking down and instead work on my windowpanes. Soon enough I felt relaxed and even confident enough to reach for a hard part. Bare feet on a ladder, leaning way over, is not a good idea. The ladder went out from under me, I crashed and slid through my kitchen to end up at the end of my kitchen floor. OUCH..

First thought

‘Why?’ was my first thought, after checking I hadn’t broken anything. I crawled to my couch certain I could not do this. See, any other person won’t fall. I’m so stupid, I failed, just clumsy, etcetera. NO, I was not going to think like that anymore. Bruised and hurting all over, I put on some sturdy shoes, balanced the ladder at the right spot and climbed right back on. I am stronger than this and will not let a small let down get in my way of finishing what I want.

Proud

I am so proud to tell you that my balcony is finished and looks pretty. Professional ;painters can definitely tell that this was my first time, but hey. I’m happy and it looks good enough for me. And I did it all by myself. I crossed boundaries and let go of my fear. C’mon let’s get ready for the next project!

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Werk

Singing on the bike path
13 June 2023

 Singing on the bike path

It’s relatively new, here in the Netherlands. I have no idea if this is an idea they took from abroad, but somehow I don’t think so. It seems to me as a typical dutch thing. We have, since a month or so, a bike path that encourages you to sing while riding your bike. ‘Singing on the bike path’, is especially for people who love to sing and don’t dare otherwise.

Sign

In other words: They need a sign. Yes, here it is perfectly OK for you to belt out a song. I think the idea in itself is sweet, but I wonder about the rules and regulations. It’s just meant as an encouragement but it sort of feels like ‘Only here and now, as soon as you leave this path  you better keep your mouth shut! They probably won’t fine you, yet’. Especially the line where it literally says that it is officially allowed for you to sing on this path, got to me. What does it say about a local government, to feel the necessity to tell me when or when not to sing, officially?? I know they all mean well, and it’s kind of a joke, but still, where will it end?

Music notes

As if the sign at the beginning of the path isn’t quite enough, they also painted music notes all over the pavement. Just in case you missed the point. Yes, it is allowed to sing. Here, on this path, because here, we’ve given you permission. Officially. As soon as you leave this path, however, and the signs stop, please shut up. No more peep out of you! Especially when you wear headphones and sing along with your ipod. ‘Cause it will be so out of tune that we don’t want to hear it.

Funny

Funny thing is that ever since the signs are up I’ve yet to hear anybody sing on this particular stretch of road. Anywhere else but here. And I understand. That, again, is very dutch. We are the most stubborn minded people on earth. And don’t anybody tell us what to do, ’cause no matter what and no matter how much we secretly love the idea, we will never, ever, ever, comply by the ‘rules’.

Wonder

And so I wonder if this will catch on. Personally I really don’t think so. As I’m pretty sure we won’t hear the end of this yet. We will write to city hall, publish angry notes in the local papers, talk about it, whereupon the people in charge will have many conferences about the yes’s and no’s, but by no means will we ever sing a single note on this particular so called ‘singing on the bike path’ path.

 

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leven

Graffiti
7 March 2023

Graffiti

Across the street from my apartment are some very high-end stores. One sells designer clothes and shoes for men, its neighbor sells design furniture. I don’t know if that’s the reason, but there is a graffiti artist who scratches all kinds of things on the wall between the two.

Mind

Now I’m all for graffiti, when it’s done in a nice way. I know some graffiti artists are true artists. The artwork they leave on old decrepit walls is amazing. I can also see that there are people who want to share their opinions with the world. Please do! But I don’t get graffiti that don’t seem to have any meaning.

Example

Now this thing across the street, for instance, it says: ‘MC FOF’. Since I have to look at it all day I’d like to know what it means, so I googled it. Nobody knows. It must be an inside thing. It’s very funny and creative the ideas people come up with though. They try to work it out. ‘McFries Or Fanta’, MasterChef Fish or Fries’, ‘MacFast Or Fart’, anyway, nobody seems to get to the answer of this mystery.

Inkling

I have an inkling it’s in the English language. So I’ve also tried my best to solve this puzzle. I’m inclined to look for FOF in the direction of ‘Fight or Flee’ , or ‘Freedom or Fight’, something like that. But the MC? And maybe I couldn’t be more wrong with my FOFs. I would really like to know though. So, anybody acquainted with (or maybe being a) graffiti artist? Please let me know, ’cause it’s driving me crazy.

Tasteful

Again, I know what it’s like to have an itch to share your thoughts with the rest of mankind. I have a few requests though. Since you’re being such an artistic and creative person, why don’t you put your text on a T-shirt or hang a poster up in you window. Instead of writing on somebody else wall. I mean, they will only wash it off again. What’s the fun in that?

Sense

And then when you do share something let us know what it is you want to share. Please. How can you want to get something out there that nobody understands. I fail to see the sense in all that. But maybe I’ve got it all wrong. Maybe that’s just what it’s meant to be. Nonsense.

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leven

Home
24 January 2023

Home

After living with roommates one way or another for years I can still really enjoy my little home. All mine. Well, mine and the bank’s but hey, I don’t have to share with anybody. I can totally do whatever I please. Be awake in the middle of the night, go to sleep in the middle of the day. Not that I often sleep during the day, but I could.

Stuff

My home is filled with stuff. Still I don’t really care much for materialistic things. I can do without jewelry, expensive furniture and upholstery. Everything in my house is filled with stories. Every item has its own memories. And at times I can just sit, look around and feel the richest woman on this planet.

Value

Its value is not monetary. Other people probably wouldn’t want it if I gave it away for free. ‘Nah junk!’ no thank you. But to me, it’s precious.  My home is small, so I can’t fit much more stuff in. That’s why I started to bravely discard some knick knacks I thought I could do without. Who needs 12 plates, right? And 24 cups? No, not me. My table seats 4 people at the most. Even when I throw a little buffet-style dinner party, not more than 10 people fit in my living room.

Throw it out

So, I decided I would throw anything I hadn’t used in over a year, out. It didn’t go very well. Every item told me its own story. ‘Have you forgotten, Ellen, how much fun we had once upon a time? And now I’m gonna end my days in the garbage can?’ No, couldn’t do it.

Exceptions

Of course there were few exceptions. A smudged glass I could never get to sparkle again. A broken plate. Burnt candles that maybe would give me another 10 minutes of light. Gone, all of them. One thing I noticed though, is that when you start to de-clutter, so many forgotten memories pop up.

Mom’s home

We’re emptying my moms’ home. She’s gone and we get to keep her life in memories. It’s probably the hardest thing I ever had to do. ‘Cause everything, literally everything, has its own meaning. But my house is filled. I cannot put anything else in there. My sister’s place is pretty much full as well. So we had to be strict.

Papers

Everything paper and writing supplies I have to still fit in. My sister takes everything to do with paint and painting supplies. My dad wrote tens and tens of diaries, I found a spot in my bookcase. A few photographs, calligraphy, pens, they are safe. An old (maybe even antique) letter scale found its way to my desk. And books. So many books.

Around

I look around. My house is my home. I love it. I feel very grateful and happy to be home. Home amongst all my memories. Now don’t think I’m this old spinster only living from memories. I plan to make many, many more each and every day. But as long as I have a base, a home, to come back to, I’m the luckiest woman in the world.

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Wonen

Change
8 November 2022

Change

After being gone for 12 years, I finally made it back to my ‘home town’ of Aspen, Colorado. The first thing I heard was: ‘Oh you will find so many things have changed!’ This was true. But isn’t it always when you haven’t been somewhere for a while? Change isn’t necessarily bad.

Old town

The old town was still visible, I only had to look for it. And yes, many things had changed. The bus system took some getting used to. But I remember when I first moved there there were no busses. We had to hitchhike. I think taking a bus is better. The parks, buildings, streets, they all got an upgrade. Beautiful flowers, pretty painted shops, nice wide street walks. And clean, everything was very clean.

Charm

Did the town lose some of its charm? Sure, it did. How much fun did we have at the old Shaft, a country and western place right downtown. Where you would find horses outside patiently waiting for their owners to stumble out of the pub, to take them home. Now there are designershops where a scarf cost a fortune. It’s another way of looking at charm.

Nostalgic

Change is nothing else but losing our perception of ‘the good old days’. ‘Cause were the ‘good old days’ always that good? Oh yes, I have very, very sweet memories of my home in the Rockies during the 80’s and ’90’s. But people living there before me tell me I never knew the ‘real’ Aspen. Which means I never knew the memories they have.

Memories

We go someplace, make our memories and leave. We can never go back to how it was. First, memories have the tendency to make things better than they were. And second, you cannot stop change. Everything is constantly changing. Thank Goodness it is. We can’t stop things from happening. No matter how much we try and want to.

Go with the flow

I was thinking about all this while I sat and looked at the river flowing by. River doesn’t fight change. It just flows. I look up at ‘my’ mountains, as people have gazed at the very same view for as long as people exist. Did those mountains change in the millions of years that sat there? Sure they did.

Good and bad

Some changes are good, some are bad. What is good for me, might not be for you. We make our own changes. Our memories and what we take with us form a place we visit forms us who we are and who we want to be. So who am I to say that changes are bad or good? For now, I was very happy to be back in my mountain town. With all its changes. Its spirit and its humor, its beauty and its heartbeat hasn’t changed for me. I was very happy and lucky to still feel at home.

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leven

Interview met Paul Harmsen
31 March 2019

Van ‘bijna BN’er’ tot ‘bijna kluizenaar’…. Een kleurrijke paradijsvogel die zich beweegt in de schaduw van het leven. Dát is wat er in mij opkomt, wanneer ik Paul Harmsen iets beter leer kennen.

(more…)

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