freakin' thoughts?

Well, it's been a while again... I can't seem to get into the groove, why did I ever think of writing books and stories...
Maybe it's indeed because I've been told that my thoughts are way too freaky for others, so I better not share. I'm dangerous.

Ow come on! Everybody has freakin' thoughts, right? I just CAN'T be the only alien around all normal sane human beings.
What is normal, by the way? and what's being 'sane' anyway? what's a human being? Why aren't we called elves? or halflings? or dwarfs? or navi? or avatars?
Wouldn't it be cool to not be the tallest two-legged creature on earth, or not to have round ears, or not have hairless feet, or to be blue or purple, or to bend the world around us by dancing? Wouldn't that be cool. Just because there's then more difference between races and people than we have now?

Did our creator maybe created us sort of looking the same, with just a little centimeters difference, and just a little difference in colour, to tell us we are family? Or because we just can't handle being more different than we are now?

If I could know what you have been thinking lately. Or what you do think now. Would you be alarmed? Or would you go on thinking and we start a thought-conversation? Welcoming all passing thoughts of others? About freakin' things. Of course. Who's thoughts are perfectly structured and not scary, like a mathematical system, who's road is always traceable and reproducible?

In churches are lots of guys who studied theology, and especially the older ones have fairly different (freaky) ideas than the younger ones. Then there's the lots of female minds, who probably studied the same area, that think also very different (more freaky?), but from a very different perspective.
Let me share an example of the freaky thoughts of one of our older professors in theology. After seeing the world develop as it does, world meaning the Dutch Reformed liberated tradition, okay maybe a little more of the Netherlands; this professor just wrote down his thoughts about it. His statement comes down to this: there's no leadership anymore, we need leaders as we had in the past, we need people (that is: men) again who tell the people (that is: church people) what to believe and what to think.
Now THAT's freaky thoughts. The few men the ignorant flock should listen to, are of course elected by this theologian himself or his fellow thinking thinkers. As I guess he won't ask me to be in that election board. I'm just one of those ignorant sheep who happens to be theologian too, oh and, darn, I'm a woman even, and that's the more freaky.

Who is to tell me I have freaky freakin' thoughts?! Isn't it more freaky to dream about a time when everybody is to be told what to think? Or even what to believe? By whom?

Lots of people have freaky thoughts, most of them don't turn it into something obligatory for others too, they just share. I had the feeling that this theologian is not just sharing. What if he would be the boss of thinking? Big Brother?

That's not just freaky. It's dangerous. It's an attempt to brainwashing.
Why did God give us a brain anyway? To throw it away because we don't use it, because we're not allowed to use it, by someone who insists on using his brain-thoughts, also for the rest of the world?

beep - beep - fatal error - virus detected - shut down
/\_/\_/\__/\___/\________/\______________________________________

Artists without keeping up appearances

One of these past days, I found a welknown artist on facebook, and although I didn't know him, I just told him we have a poster of a painting he made of his wife, on our wall.

He immediately responded, invited us to come over to an exhibition he has in The Netherlands, and in case we are the die-hards, we are invited for a more private get-to-know-eachother-exposition, and in case that doesn't work, we just meet somewhere.

After that there's just normal talk between us, and, low and behold, there's a normal man behind the name. Not too hard trying to keep up appearances.

This little 'incident' reminds me of being humble, even though the whole 'world' is fan of you, or your work.

For 'normal people', deep in our heards, it's hard to not try to act a little like Hyacinth-keeping-up-appearances. Stories are usually a little better than reality, more exitement, more creepy, more generous, more humble, more christian.

Imagine you are known to a lot of people, because of what you do, what you know, or who you are. Then you have the luxury of standing on a pedestal. After you did end up there, you don't have to do much, you still stand there. As a friend of ours often says, after I did write my first 2 or 3 books, no editor or publisher is going to check me again, or ask questions: just my name under the script is enough.

Wow, isn't it VERY tempting to just work not as hard anymore as you used to... nobody is going to check you anyway, and not a soul is even thinking of doing corrections on your work or person. Yóu are the expert after all.

So, imagine you are doing arts. Living in some of the most beautifull places on the Earth. People all over the world buy your paintings, or posters of your paintings. And some chick in The Netherlands is emailing you...

Isn't it COOL to be on that pedestal then???

So, in some weeks I know more, and by March we know how real he is, and his wife too. Maybe they come over to Dordrecht and try our marvellous coffea. (not trying to keep up appearances: our coffea IS marvellous, come over and try)

H'm isn't it lack of trust that we usually need some kind of proof...???

That somebody is genuïne, real, nice, humble, buddhist, christian?? Does being humble really exists by the way? Or is it more a posponed pride...

I'm proud to be humble. About our coffea that is ..

Starting a new year

Although there's the new start of another new year, of course I did take some legacy with me, especially from the last month.

Erysipelas, one definition I found says: "Erysipelas (Greek erusipelas - red skin) (also known as Ignis sacer, Holy fire and St. Anthony's fire) is an acute streptococcus bacterial infection of the dermis, resulting in inflammation." (wiki) The translation program I use says: it's "an acute, spreading, febrile disease characterized by inflammation of the skin, subcutaneous tissues and mucous membranes, due to infection of the lymph spaces of the corium and underlying parts by Streptococcus erysipelatis."

Now I know what that is, looks and feels like in real life. Death creeping up your foot. Thank God for penicillin, otherwise the disease would have a new name by now: St. Diana's fire.

The legacy is still some skin peeling off my foot, and something not quite right with the blood going back up.

(nope, won't put in some horror pics)

Anatomy. The lessons to get us sports masseuses to know what we are moulding, are finally leading up to the climax: exams. In some two weeks.

Next thing to study: physiology. Cells and molecules, what food and movement is doing to those structures. The smaller the more fun.

Organisations. Some organisation we almost started to trust, just got back to us and we feel like the sign - watch out: hidden agenda! - is burning red like hell. Is that what you get when you just search for a tribe? Hidden agenda's and distrust. Feels like the CIA or so.

Another one is trying to get down to the basics, by talking the same talk year after year. They want to build bridges between us and them, that is, we need to build bridges. But different ones we did build ourselves for years. Apparently our way is not theirs. Maybe we still drive on the right side and they drive on the left side... or upside down. That same talk year after year looks like copy-paste, with the desire to get things over with, heal the problems, come closer to each other.

Isn't the definition of madness, doing the same thing over and over again, expecting to help and get results this time?

Small living place. Now it's getting me. Hunting me down, it feels like. I just NEED space. To watch. To run through. To think. To live. Not so much order, or whatever stuff sorted out, everything and everybody is overwhelming me right now. Seeing and feeling everything does. My mind looks like a racetrack without an end, and without a direction. My physical and mental ears thunder like big freight trucks running by or like an earthquake. The physical and spiritual eyes God gave me just hurt like watching too long television in a room full of smoke.

God. Yeah, He's there. Still.