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.

'Mexican flu' + headache = time to think even more

At least I can sit upright for some time now (yeah!) and type.

Some days with couching, nausea, low temperature, headache and such, urged me to lay down in our dark bedroom. Of course there is much sleeping involved, but also lots of time staring at the ceiling. We do have a very boring ceiling, I discovered. So, in my mind I redesigned somewhat of my dreams, got a new idea here and there, and talked to a lot of friends... Too bad they couldn't hear me (h'm, maybe some of them did).

Didn't talk to God that much though. Somehow I lost some of my freedom in talking to Him. We used to chit-chat about everything during the day, but I lost that connection somewhere. I know I'll find it back after I have peeled off the stubborn parts of my guard.

We (yep, coach/therapist) started with trying to reconnect with me myself. You know, it's a strange challenge to try to find yourself under all the layers of protection. Paul tells us (Galatians) that we should put Gods given armor on, but I think I took that WAY too litteraly, and took all I could find in His creation, to put on for selfprotection. Of course that did cover the spiritual armor of what Paul is talking about. The challenge is to be brave again. Fight myself in a way. The journey is fun though. Especially now that I don't try it on my own, I think for the first time in my life. The therapist I found feels good, I trust her, she's almost as crazy as I was (historic proof??? I don't know, maybe it's just in my head), and she found a way to cope with her gifts.

So, I found out that thinking with a headache doesn't make the last one worse, just the first one more chaotic.

The Arts-Hotel I have in my head emerged fresh from under the dust, because someone I trust said that she saw sort of flames and sparks while I was telling about the dreams I have. Although I was very enthousiastic about all of my dreams and passions, this one stood out. Therefore I did some rethinking. I added some Castle in Scotland. Talked about it with a friend overthere, she got some of my enthousiasm too. Added our farm idea, growing most of our own food and such. Worked out my ideas about the wellness/spa thing, adding my massage somewhere.

You know what: I constantly come across the name Juillard. This week right up my face three times. First time had to do with dance, second time was arts, third time was jazz. Of course immediately I started reflecting on my arts: wouldn't it be cool to give myself the time to do something with my instruments... or my poor brushes... or get my camera upgraded. I should buy tickets to Tijuana, to go to my friend Wendy, to attend her photography classes next year. Wow. And I would just LOVE to get me a space to work it all out, a studio, for music and painting and photo/film editing.

Now that I can't buy the jacket I wanted for the money I got for my birthday, I can buy a massage table... and get the practicing going! Or maybe the fruit trees I want in my garden. Or a juice maker, to get the best juice from my own fruits. Or a drying oven for making my own beef jerky. Or a WII.

I want big stairs in my Arts Hotel. With enough room to put a big X-mas tree in the middle. Not exactly like the Arts Fabrik Hotel in Germany, where we once were (after a Rock Legends festival), that felt like they have just modern arts. Although I want to have some of that craziness that some spots in the hotel have (dining hall, some rooms). Hotel Arts Barcelona is modern and looks good, but suits more the rich and wealthy. Also the painted rooms in Hotel des Arts in San Francisco are maybe a little too much for most of the visitors I'm aiming for...

I want it more feeling like the Castle-Hotel we stayed during our grandfather's 90'th birthday: warm, with lots of history in it, high ceilings, big fires, big stairs. Where artists of all kinds can find a place to relax, to reflect, to find peace, to find inspiration, to work, to talk to other freaks like them :D

A well, having some of the dogs I always loved: the Borsoi. Having lots of space for the kids and Borsois to play and have fun, and learn from nature. Wouldn't that be cool.

Not the city like I was plunged in during the film "save the last dance". But it was slammin' to dive in the culture overthere. The film is so good in getting the atmosphere in your head, I felt it, I even wanted to learn to dance more, again. There was also a good balance in feeling sorry for the mayhem some black people in the US land in, ánd the pride some other black people from the same community show, that get them out of the prejudice some whites have. I did feel sorry for the struggles there, appearantly, still are between people who just have a different colour.

I could go on with this, now that I try to recall the last days, staring at the ceiling.

Honestly, I want to try to really get my thoughts on 'paper', and not only the censured version.

Welcome to the mind of a sensation-seeking-HSP.

High Sensitivity II

Well, I started to accept and work WITH it.

After I did a workshop about HSP's, I discovered that I am not the only freak out there, and that the coach is having the same sympthoms as I have...
We are High Sensitive Sensation Seekers and it's only that we don't look like eachother at all from the outside, otherwise we could have been sisters. Twins maybe even, but that's something I'm going to find out next friday and beyond:

We are about to do some coaching sessions together, and see what's coming out for me.

Think of me, and maybe pray for some light on this subject.

High Sensitivity

- I posted this on a Dutch community site this week in the morning, maybe it's interesting to try to translate -


I've always known it, I feel and see and notice lots more details than many others around me. That's the life of an art lover, I used to think. 'Maybe I should become an artist or something', but no, that was at my study age not done: a smart girl prepares for her future (and chooses something technology)! Well then, I was going to do technology, because I was smart too. Music, drawing and dancing and such, that was fun for hobby, addition to life, but you're not that crazy that you expect to let that determine your income. Heck no, imagine you should fill you entire day with something as shabby as that.

Wouldn't it be just WONDERFUL! Being blessed with the ability to do your art... and doing it for whole days too! and weekends, and evenings, and holidays ...
Imagine you doing what you don't even want to do as a hobby, but then for all the freakin' working days you have... then you're pretty sour. And in case you are a High Sensitive Person, you slowly but surely seem to sink in the swamp of burn-out.

In case you're highly sensitive to moods and atmospheres, then you get the idea ... I am somewhat irritated, cynical and such, and especially pleased that I seem to be stuck in the burning swamp, and that the escape lies primarily in yet a number of years to finish what I started, because loose ends are also dead ends...

Should I drop some intellectual stuff, and just dig with my hands in the mud, in the paint, hands full of brushes, or ready to plaster, or at my instruments, or massage the muscles of others?? Just a year or so to recover mentally and emotionally, crafts, friends, nature, doesn't that look like heaven?
And after that start again, with renewed energy but with reflection time built in, for example?

Finally, wouldn't it be wonderful to do something with the gifts that I have hidden somewhere in being highly sensitive... to help others, because I can sense virtually everything: hidden agendas, feelings, emotions, blockages, solutions... and because I can see things that others apparently do not see, but still should consider using: emotional, mental, spiritual ...


Well, you out there, accept it: I'm a freak for real.

Now I have to still accept it, or be locked away, safely away.