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Welcome to the brainwaves of Diana - freak-on-the-way - Van Loo
Hopefully you enjoy my thoughts and want to walk with me on the freakin' way of life, faith and all that! I am told I'm a freak and the works of my grey cells are way too freaky to be taken serious, so beware :-D

Sunday, June 02, 2013

The Fourth Musketeer, is a woman.

Today I read an article that turned my world upside down, again. Making me pissed, to be shoved into that tiny little space again that 'they' invented for women. To take care, make your man happy, be beautiful and dumb, and especially to 'stay put'.

It stated "play, hunt and fight, manual that comes with the man". And "let the man (grunt) go on his mountainbike, run, fish, make love, show off his gadgets, cheer during a football-game, laugh out loud with his friends."
And it gives us, wives, the advice to "'secretly' terminate some subscriptions or 'loose' the remote" and "invest in my own attractiveness" with 'dress beautifully' "
WTF!?!?

My gosh, is it starting again?
Generalization until we drop dead?
From playing someone we are not?

When do we FINALLY realize that people are unique human beings? Every individual is what the word says: an individual.
No generalizations there.
There are no rules to which a man should keep himself, in order to be 'a man'.
There are no rules either to which a woman should keep herself, in order to be 'a woman'.
It's just nature. Physics. Biology, so you will.

Not? Cool, let's make some 'rules for being a good mom', 'regulations on how to be the best lawnmower', 'facts to incorporate for being the one and only grandpa', '10 selfhelp rules for becoming the churchmember you've always wanted to be'.
Oh. I'm sorry. Those rules do exist already.

Of course I did read what people said who were attending those particular events I referred to. I couldn't finish that whole article, bad for my heart... But of course I got the scope of it: They grew in personality. They discovered that they never grew up. Great! Saves lots of shrink costs, and this is WAY more fun, duh! I'm happy for them. That's not the point.

It's getting thrown on yet another pile of generalization. The things mentioned in that article (or some) are the things my hubby loves, those are the things I love, and things my dearest friends (yes, girls) love, and our daughters love, and our son. But not the husband of one of my friends. No freakin' way! No shower in the morning? Sweating while crossing a wet stream? Not for him! Never!
So who is the real man here? He is definitely a real man too!


Nobody asked my husband if he wanted something like that: new rules to 'find himself'. He invented things he loves all by himself! Gosh! Is thát a man, or what! He did grow up.
Walking through Scotland, with friends, or by himself. For some weeks, yes, seeing only nature, yes, meeting himself, yes, going to the core of life, yes.
It's also 'nature' that life got in the way, job, wife, kids, house, time travel still doesn't exist.

Nobody asked me if I wanted something with pink flowers, red hearts, taking care of other's kids, sitting around, drinking tea, chatting about nothing, shopping, purple dots, doing laundry, cleaning the house, playing manager to the house, playing taxidriver for the kids... gosh, I can make this as long as my hubby can make his...! And still time travel doesn't exist and no, we don't have Hermione's timetravelthingy to do all the stuff within the appropriate 24 hours.


Maybe that is the reason that LARP exists... giving us the chance to run around in crazy suits, hunt for eachother, fight eachother, drink with eachother and laugh a lot!

How do I long for a good bootcamp, some hands on work like cutting little trees down to make a shelter, invent some traps to catch food, cross a stream to get to those healthy berries and roots overthere. I would love to do some sweating while trying to run up a hill with my little family, just to conquer it. Or take it from our friends in a fierce battle. And make a big bonfire to celebrate friendship afterwards. With meat and mead. :-)
Oh. Isn't that a feminine thing to do?

Shouldn't I like what I like? Shouldn't my lifelong partner like what he likes? Shouldn't we like the same stuff? Just because others don't?

Who is the crazy one here!!?!

Statistics in my own environment tell me that the Fourth Musketeer, is a woman!
And the world better accept that.
Otherwise we'll have a fight about it... :-p

Sunday, May 05, 2013

Kelowna's most comprehensive News Source | Okanagan news | Kelowna News

Kelowna's most comprehensive News Source | Okanagan news | Kelowna News

My friend Wendy McAlpine in the News ;-)
just wanted to share

Have fun reading and looking through her pictures...
and don't hold back the oh's and ah's and wow's and whatever-you-say-or-do-when-you-are-amazed...

Saturday, April 20, 2013

Airbrushing, I started again... very cautious

One of the artforms I encountered in my life that caught me right the first time I tried, is airbrushing.
Although I got it sort of 'in my fingers', I am very perfectionist. So, stuff I'm setting up takes a lot of time before it is finished... in my opinion. I just want it to be very nice. I want to have it done in such a way that even I would love to buy it to hang on a prominent place on a wall of our livingroom.

Of course I don't accept from myself the flaws of the beginner, the rooky, the student.

So, once in a while I want to let my lute dangle in the trees and run of screaming. But usually, in fact, all the time, I come back the next week, to the workplace of my beloved teacher, to struggle again... getting things done the way I want it. A well. I will grow up one day. I think.

It caught my mind that I never, ever, finish something to the complete end of the tunnel. Figuratively speaking.
Somewhere during the second year of highschool, during my relaxed journey through the Gymnasium, (whistling, two fingers in the nose, you get the picture), something snapped. I crashed. In plain sight. Since then I never managed to get things finished. It started of course with just failing some exams, got on with failing too many exams, barely getting the papers I needed to graduate.
University got the best of me: I didn't get the exams done for the propaedeuse, but I shined in second year courses... Figure that. All the same with maths and physics and those kind of 'easy' subjects. Of course that wasn't enough to get any graduation, since one needs to finish that dreaded first year, the prop. Figures.

Job? Yeah right. Couldn't get my mind wrapped around doing/working on the same darn thing for more than 3 or 4 months every day.
Okay, I'm High Sensitive, now I know, but so what?! I guess doing something for a longer period of time just for some income, is not enough to survive.

Study again. I LOVE learning new stuff. It keeps me alive. But it would be nice to have something in my hands that sort of proves that I did it. And that I can do it. Once in a while that would be nice. But nooo. Every time I did hit some test or exam, I just blocked. Failed. Or just got the minimum. Not that I didn't know more, or could barely do whatever was needed. It just didn't come out when needed.
I still have the samen when people ask me things I do really know. I just block. Don't know how to say it, is the least problem. Usually I just don't know it anymore. After some hours, I exactly know it again. Even where it can be found, in what book, almost on what page.
Darn.

I don't know anymore where it started to come back a little. Some exams I did during a study theology, were downright brilliant (duh). The exams for the first course Kynology (yeah, about dogs) were also very good. (I skipped the exams for the second course: that was an oral exam. No chance I would find the words)

Now I'm working on some other exams, but this time there is no time-pressure. I am allowed to finish what I have to do (sewing, drawing fashion designs, embroidering) in peace. Of course when the exam is there, I have to finish some drawing, miniature making and sewing on the spot, but the assignments I have been working on, need just be displayed.

Of course, these days, since December, to be honest, I am fighting a burnout. So. No pressure allowed. At all. And I do fall into the habbit of drawing pressure to myself: I just have to do all different kinds of things, all at the same time, and all have to be perfect. I can't say 'no'.
It is so darn hard to crash and just keep on lying down.
Crashed.
Friesians, by Cally Matherly, 2005
I just need to come back on my feet myself!
I don't need help.
I don't want help.
I am ashamed that I can't do it myself.
It's SO hard to ask for help.
Especially when everybody else had the habbit to ask ME for help, the whole 30-many years of my life I helped others. Yeah, I am one of those pastor-helper-incarnate. I run alongside the ones who need me. Since birth.


This is going to take a little longer than the 6 months to a year they predicted as the 'usual' term to recover...

My 'shrink' and all the others who know, told my I am only allowed to do the things I like... So I told them that they don't want to know how many things I like, no even love to do... Then they told me I should only do the things that give me energy. So now I'm trying to figure that out.

I skipped work. I skipped meetings. I skipped volunteering for whatever. I skipped sundayservices in our church. I skipped art. I skipped music.
Now I feel dead.
At least I feel. That's new...

So I started music again: playing saxophone! (our youngest daughter just started to play the trumpet, so I play along ;) )
And I started art again: airbrushing! (today!)
And I will start singing again: lessons start in 3 weeks!

Maybe I will start living again...
in some time...
a long time...
patience...

Friday, April 19, 2013

It's been some time...

... a long time...

without writing
without living almost
just running around, organizing, do meetings, do stuff, do too much
attending schools, talking myself back into my old school to finish it, planning workshops, doing courses
racing the kids around their school, sports, music, friends

leaving the kitchen and lots of housholding to my husband...

that should have been a sign

but no.

So. Now I need to recover. And some friends who've been there and got the t-shirt, my coaches and my shrink tell me I need to write. Anything.
That rang a bell. I was always dreaming about writing. Books. Poems. Songs. Maybe this is a good way to start that dream up again. But like the old engine, I need lubrication first...

They tell me, it will pass, I will recover, but it will cost me, time...
... a long time...

They told me I will change...
for the good I pray

But give it some time...
... a long time...

How I would love to do some more photographing...

I have dreams....

About all kinds of stuff...
people...
situations...
flying...

Occasionally there are dreams about me, hunting for pictures.
In the city. In nature. In homes. In public buildings.
Urban Exploring.

From objects. From animals. From people. From situations.
On the move.

All on my own.
Maybe with someone I love.

I would love to.


Once in a while I enter some sweepstakes to win a camera, with or without lenses or flashlights or whatever gear... (like this one: http://bit.ly/Yy93VY ), and in this last one, I would choose for the Nikon, of course, I can use a new body ... ... ...

Sounds 'funny', that last sentence...


Maybe I feel that way non the less. I can use a new body... a new spirit... a new me.
?
This old one is burned out.

But then again, the new needs to fit the gear that surrounds me. Like the Nikon-body needs to fit my lenses and other photo-stuff. Otherwise there's a misfit and I will get the constant pop-up: 'are you sure?', 'rebooting system', 'searching for new driver'...

and ultimately: 'fatal error occurred', with a 'need to restart'... Darn! Again?!

Is there a way to sort of restore the old?
Not to restart, but to freshly go on where I stranded?
Take off where I landed?

I don't fly that well without silver wings. So I stranded. Somewhere in some old cornfield or so. Lost.

Can I grow those silver wings?
Or can I believe again in flying... without those...
just on willpower...
on faith...
on love...

trusting in nature
in God
in people
in me

is that possible?
?

The book of the city Tijuana - with some pictures I took

The source of our Borsoi-love: breeder Marij Tuip, The Netherlands.