maandag 29 december 2008

never settle for less

i'm so in love, i'm so in love, i'm so fucking in love... with something.
this feeling is ultimate, this is the desperate need of wanting to get out, out of the ordinary, out of this town, this godforsaken place where people come to huddle up and make babies, to pat themselves on their backs for another well spent day at the grey office faking smiles and shaking hands with anyone but a brain, in this town where people claim they have found peace, i feel as though i have died and this is my sanctuary, this is where my remains are lying, yet instead of rotting away , these limbs are still moving, and growing as i pump myself full of energy, full of alcohol and food, to feel something, to feel as though i am still here. the days go by and i have no strength to keep them in their place, and just sit their waiting for something, just as i am sitting here, waiting for something. but what is it that we are waiting for. we need to open our eyes and make amense with what we have and stop complaining, or, we need to grab ourselves up, break ties that are formed during the years and flee, away in to the sunset, we ride and we walk, and we forget how to talk, it's not an option. the fear of being alone in this journey is what keeps me from running out of the fucking door. the positive effect of this repetitive choice to stay in this lost town is that i am happy, often, not always, but some moments are really rare gems, that many of you will never have in their life, it is a true and uncontrollable love taking over the wheel of my life, and not to be taken away by such a fool's choice as choosing the unknown path to possible perfection. there i have put it in writing once again, the choices we make, the ones we can never speak about in public, let alone write in black on white, the doubt we never speak of, the pros and cons, and there are so many many of them, it will take a life time of figuring out. what it is i want out of life, what it is that makes me stay in the same place, being bored out of my skull and not doing anything about it, being totally aware of this situation, and yet still giving in to it, what is it that i so very much crave for another kind of life, to be excited by it, to find yourself really alive?? i hope for more meaning, and i am going to seek for it, i will never stop this journey, and don't worry even if you think i've settled down, know, that i am still looking for answers i will never find, and that i will never settle peacefully with just 'making the best out of it', for i won't settle for less than pure living, and craving for more, for more, more..

vrijdag 12 december 2008

back and back again

Losing my way then finding it again, only to lose it a few fucking minutes later. standing in another point now, looking so certain, feeling like a completely new me, or maybe like the old me, about to take over the world, stronger than ever and ready for action... that was me a few minutes ago. the magic of rest really has effect on your energy, health and inspiration. if only my mood was so easily influenced, it still changes from good to bad in seconds, from happy to sad, nothing inbetween, being thrown off by the usual, unbelievably so, i keep coming back for more. fuck it, i'm going

woensdag 19 november 2008

What's the purpose of trying?

And as the road to riches slowly starts to become a never ending chase into the desert of shamelessness, I start to think that this might be a good time to pack my empty bags with litter and profanity and head back south to france again. I miss the neat pavement, expensive taxis and corner tourists eating their cheap croissants. A small funding problem won't hold this return to reason, but this dirty old town called Amsterdam is already getting on my weak nerves again, too much time on my hands is not the problem like before - as i keep getting booked for small jobs as well as the occassional bigger client - no, it's every little niche and streetlamp i come across, that take me right back to that fictional place i was almost able to erase completely. I guess it's true what they say that you can't run from certain facts or people from your life, they follow you around whether you want to or not, the only thing that restrains this frequent recollection, that in a masochistic manner i'm certain i recall upon self demand, is hard, cold liquor. It makes me flow, it takes me up in a whirlwind to another level of consciousness. awaiting the flow again, but this time i'm referring to money issues, I am thrilled like a child to be on the road again, exhaustion of carrying pounds of excess baggage around, another masochism, makes me feel like i'm doing something worthwhile, i'm addicted to this rush of moving around, literally replacing this scenery for a better one, another set that we can act, ofcourse without rehearsing, capturing the next dramatic scene to come.

woensdag 5 november 2008

les jours d'une photographe a paris

So there i am at gare du nord, carrying my black heavy loaded suitcase - filled with all the necessities to create a nice shoot - rolling along the smooth pavement of this busy paris station. I inhale a quick smoke and watch my bags carefully before i get into the taxi to rue de legendre, where my shabby little hotel awaits me. I amuse the driver with my obama conversation and without a good tip because I'm too broke for the ride anyway, I get out of the taxi and look up and down at what is supposed to be my hotel. The road I am standing in looks empty, dark and a forgotten street of Paris. An arabic looking fellow, who's slow in his movements and obviously forgot I was coming gives me a key to my room. I carry my heavy loaded suitcase up the stairs and ask him for some help, as I'm sure it's common for a fellow to help a lady. The pity fool contemplates this seemingly, ordinary question for a moment, asks if my lamp standard is too heavy to carry, and then decides to carry it -while moaning- to the fourth floor anyway. Whaddayknow, the elevator is out of order, 'pour l'instant'. I spent the next two days exercising just to get into my room.

I drop my stuff at the room, and was expecting exactly this, a small room, with a bed that barely fits the room, no electricity plugs in sight, and the tiniest little bathroom you could expect for exactly the same kind of budget. I smoke a cigarette and inspect the street where I will have to live in for the next couple of days. I'm overcome with sadness and poorness. A taxi pulls up and this wonderful young lad and black haired girl step out. Ah voila, c'est Annabel, ma amie d'amsterdam et la Jeremy kaponz, a boy with a james dean look, hair all over the place, almost too beautiful for his own good. I spent a good deal of time with them, and as I am shooting them in my small bed, in my hotel room, following a series of walk arounds drinking beer and shooting pictures, near the most uncommon of all places in paris in the 17th district, I almost forgot that I've just arrived and still need to eat.

At 11 o'clock sharp I push the huge brown door to get in this patio where I would have to guess which door would lead to the agency I am supposed to be at. A mobile phone leads me to my appointment on time, and I am seated in this white room, behind a desk, where I am supposed to meet the boys for the casting today. I call them in one at a time and smile and act like this is the normal way of life, judging and approving/dissaproving someone in 5 minutes, already knowing first hand when I meet them if they are what I am looking for. Some of them are shy and others i turn away instantly, while they are full of themselves, who needs a boy that doesn't want to be liked by anyone , anyway. Ten guys from the age of 18 until 20 follow in a quick tempo and I am impressed by two of them. I book one of them for a shoot on thursday and then i run out again for my next appointment, while getting lost in the crowd of the subway station I hardly have time to think about the fast and mad world I got into, so i go to two other agencies where i also cast some models, and go back to my last night in this poor hotel near place de clichy.

dinsdag 28 oktober 2008

Hanging on too long

I keep coming back to the same point in my life, I could travel until the end of the world, taking everything that i physically need to survive with me in my backpack, except him, and i still would find him there in another city, another world completely from what we have come to know, i'm finding him everywhere. I feel like i've stepped in to a Romantic Love kinda 50's flick, without the 50s part unfortunatly, and where we are in the middle of the troublesome scene where everything will have to be resolved in order to come to the grand ending of everlastings and happy living arrangements like that. Instead of waiting for that to happen, I am leaving to the next european city that can reanimate me, and shake me awake, the train ticket with just my name on it - to get lost in a city of french and foreign strangers in the most romantic city of the world, Paris - is waiting for me on my desk. Just arrived back home in the low lands and already aching to leave this frenzy, this rain, this life draining place and rat race of the same sad sob stories again.

"my blood runs on but my body stands still" - Virginia Woolf

zondag 19 oktober 2008


So I suppose I do not know how he really looked and, in fact, I suppose I shall never know, now, for he was plainly an object created in the mode of fantasy. His image was already present somewhere in my head and I was seeking to discover it in actuality, looking at every face i met in case it was the right face - that is, the face which corresponded to my notion of the unseen face of the one i should love, a face created by the rage to love which consumed me. i created him solely in relation to myself, like a work of romantic art, an object corresponding to the ghost inside me. - Flesh and the mirror; fireworks by angela carter.

zaterdag 18 oktober 2008

vrijdag 17 oktober 2008

Slum Village

With my head anything but in the clouds, i carry myself like a heavy load towards an appointment that has been inevitable for months. Not knowing what to expect of such a meeting, I went in with no expectations what so ever. Though I didn't bring my expectations this time, seeing as how they got lost the last time... this time, they were met. It came as such a surprise, a feeling of joy, overwhelmed by a good ending again, for a minute i think that things are turning up. Not believing what happened, I continue the rest of my day feeling proud, as i got what i wanted,... this time.

I wake up, wish the day away, stumble around and throw on the first clothes i can find. Strutting around the house looking dazed for the instant coffee machine, i think about what just happened, not affecting me so vividly anymore. Ah, the fake sugar gives me my daily dosage of fake energy, right up my alley, right. I check my mail, the mirror - I shiver - shower, dress up, hurry up and catch the last train to arrive not-so-fashionably late on the set. I am tired all the time, being nice costs energy, so i whip out more food my stomach can handle. Binging away, it's official, I have lost control. I can't think or process more than two words at once, i am running around in circles, chaos calms my nerves, rest races my thoughts. Hammer time. My trip to Paris, followed by a few more cities, couldn't have come sooner to save my reason. City of light, guide me. For now, I'm back in Slum village, walking up and down on Memory lane. Let's trade places, step in my shoes and travel from good times to bad times and back again in minutes. High and low, heart beats fast and slow, i feel cold and warm at the same time, not happy not sad, who could ever take this? Misery and magic hand in hand, someone break the spell, this curse, a parasite in me. Distance and solid boundaries, this is final. Heart hopes forever, stop it, so will I. Finally leaving, i'm aware of your moves. You turn a blind eye. Promise not to dwell, see you somewhere. Handle with care, I wish u well

dinsdag 7 oktober 2008

good times for a change...

so please please please, let me, let me, let me,
get what i want this time.

woensdag 17 september 2008

valuable time

I was happy in the haze of a drunken hour
but heaven knows I'm miserable now
I was looking for a job, and then I found a job
In my life why do I give valuable time
To people who don't care if I live or die ?
In my life why do I smile at people who I'd much rather kick in the eye
- The Smiths

woensdag 10 september 2008


the cars are racing by, we are walking away from edie and i am so close now, it all feels so familiar. a ticking clock in one hand, sweat in the other, in true uncertain manner i follow my own advice and realize it's time for action. time is running away again, and maybe it will have company soon. i have learned that even slow motion keeps moving forward eventually, so i hand over the attack of reason, or book if you want to call it by it's name. some rapid eye movement follows, while i look for clues on the one standing before me, i am intrigued. i get hit in the face by what has just been triggered and i get a hint from my mind, i need to get out of here. exit the scene and replace it for another one. i am suffocating from the open air, or are am i standing to close to an edge? looking into the abyss, i am pretty sure this gap wasn't there before? a short drive where i hold on tight follows. quick goodbyes after i jumped off, i cut an invisible cord and head in the only direction i know where i am welcomed with open arms. i ignore the tourists with a deadly look as they are trying to approach. eye on the prize baby. pacing forward like i am in need for a fix, i am full speed ahead, am i on acid, or what is happening. the adrenaline rushes me back to life, this is kicking me up so high, i am untouchable.

a new sun wakes me up and persuades me, yes, i am back in the real world again, my nights are long, but in the morning everything that once was colored turns into a desaturated blur. so i get up, don't get dressed, because why would i, and i wait for hours on end for that call. there's work waiting for me, but i am unable to focus. sitting there looking outside, looking at the pictures, looking at
a distraction so firm, insane i know, the distance blossoms, alter my reasoning, i need a break from you. spending all my time waiting, hoping for anything out of the ordinary putting me on the map again. that unusual boom you know you need when you are feeling this low, something that would blast me high up there standing firmly on the edge again. maybe i can buy a one way ticket to a world of madness. a week of nothing to mention leaves me quite non existent. later on, fixed like a fox, imagining it all so different, i say nothing of importance. drinking my coffee, pretending this is casual, we gaze and wish we were at other places. thinking stuff that doesn't make sense, nothing real at all. dreams and days merging into full blown daze. sensing a feeling, about to purge, noticing i am damaged. weak like never before, triumph lost, i dissapear.

a few days pass, lose the need, the urge, the ache. suddenly i get a huge break, higher than ever i feel alive, i am fucking alive. existing once more, i breathe with a passion, my veins are open to whatever comes next, a whirlwind of new exciting adventures grabs me by the hand and we walk on the same sidewalk, i am certain of where i am heading, up, and away

"He never really looks at me
I give him every opportunity, In the room downstairs
He sat and stared, In the room downstairs
He sat and stared
I'll never make that mistake again - The Smiths"

dinsdag 2 september 2008

never there

touching the void,
everything is so hollow
am i invisible
can't face my way
this is it, wish you'd follow.
so unevolved,
yet i am trapped

you don't worry
if i turn and burn
i am aware
never truly awake,
the grasp is there
moments i wait for
will never come
never there,
where they ever?

passed a point
can not come back
hard ways at hand
made my bed,
anything to take it back
there's no denying
i tried my best
no more tragedies
never there
where they ever?

you suffer my happiness
a queen in masking misery,
always waiting
for an imaginary event
never there,
waiting forever


"you are all i need. i'm all the days you choose to ignore. just want to share your life. i only stick with you, because there are no others. you are all i need. i'm in the middle of your picture, lying in the reeds."

we are living through a wall,
so close but i am far,
what once was easy so forced now.
tonight, it seems like miles ahead before i am back
where is my destination,
our journey was unreal,
consuming me every day
a glow was your gift to me,
when did it leave?
make me feel
make me feel

take me back to the fire
we have been warned,
we are burned
a fast road once led us,
have we passed talking?
a flame under my hands,
burns on my skin,
should we sit and talk
this night should end,
i wake up tomorrow,
the flame still burns
wish i'd feel, light the fire
make me feel
make me feel

maandag 25 augustus 2008

lucky number (twenty) seven

today is my birthday. this is the year of opportunities, bravery and one or two psychological disorders. the year of unwritten stories, growing wisdown, and foolish thinking (or drinking?). the year of infatuation, love and hard decisions, the year of determination, doubt and foreign publications. the year of the muse, the book and of a rising star in the making. the year of New York, Paris and London, the year of experience, [i]free-living[/i], and destination: on the road. the year i walk alone, some strangers tag along, familiar faces i've known. and this is the year of magic, pride and unforeseen bitterness. the year of adventures, success and dressing the part. that of dusk and dawn and anything in between. a year of fashion, fatal heels and fake smiles. the camera flashes, the curtain falls, i am dancing my dreams to life.

another day, another shot.

zondag 17 augustus 2008


I walk around for hours, my head's too heavy to carry, I keep counting the bricks on the road as I go along, keep balancing on a vertical line, following the path will guide me to sanity and back again.I see the same trees, bushes and dull houses, some tiresome folk to match, as I pass along in silence. This is not the time to doubt, the small things that are keeping me up at night will soon be forgotten instead of surpressed, as these stories of little importance and the people starring in them always become more futile after some time has past, preferrably in other surroundings. The rain has stopped falling as I was descending at similar speed. I look at my shadow covering the dirty pavement, a proof of existence, I am still here. I pass by a window and swiftly check my sideprofile, my body looks thinner than normal and I feel pleased for a minute. That feeling gets replaced with disgust fast when I look up and meet my face, I seem to have lost my clean (innocent) expression, instead I look at the dark circles under my eyes, greyish skin, the black gazing eyes look right into my gut and it frightens me. I shake it off, pretend I look good and walk, drift, ahead. I know there's only one thing left for me to do.

I want to go soon, others may define that as 'running' away, but I am pretty sure I would walk, as running is too tiring, a heat of the moment sorta thing, something someone does when they are not really determined, which is in contrast with how I will go. I wouldn't take much stuff, just my cameras, a few pair of black jeans (do I even own other colors?) a couple of shirts, my mac book and a couple of other (bad) things to fill in the waiting 'gaps' I would be sure to encounter. I am heading to another town, another city, another country with other lives to hear about and finally a few new faces to look at. I could work as a photographer for the local papers and magazines, earn some money to buy rounds of drinks at night, polaroid film during the day, scouring the streets for hours on end looking for the next muse.

A flashback to the past I left behind, where I know the people are waiting for my return, I close my eyes and I inhale the smoke, no one would miss me if they could see my bad self living it and kicking it now. You don't understand, no one really does, just keep breathing out and in, day in day out, the same ways the same days. Without really thinking they - read: you - do what others want (no, expect) them to do, slowly turning into robotic, mechanical things who talk, Wall-E probably has more brain capacity than the average person. Fit in, smile every day and tuck in your shirts. Don't stray, don't do, don't think and don't cross the street diagonally. I need a break, or to break out, I've always managed to keep a tight lit on boredom as well as common ways. Looking out for new ways to spend my days, rare people to chat about the unfamiliar, unusual and strange things as we go along. I've learned in a short time that I am bound by my own actions, that I have absolutely no control about the future, always hitting me in the face with random difficulties,... but I am okay with that. I am not fucking afraid anymore. Whatever happens will happen when it does, so bring it on, I (think) I can take it.
In the meanwhile you can find me in your past, waiting on that corner in the middle of the night, I won't be there anymore, I have departed.

donderdag 14 augustus 2008

Keep a light on those you love
They will be there when you die
there's no need to fear
there's no need to cry

Every little piece in your life will add up to one
Every little piece in your life will mean something to someone

dinsdag 12 augustus 2008


"The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing" - Jack Kerouac

zaterdag 9 augustus 2008

control the rain

take control over my life,
and open my sleeping eyes,
awake and asleep, the same image reappears
keeping this inside
it grows into something vile
it eats away and it consumes
lost my reason, hope will go to

racing thoughts
i want to hide
would you be so kind to see
i'm at your side
you changed me, you don't mind
you sit there silent, i smile

rain keeps falling, i feel like i am too
stranger to my frustration
why not reach for my hand?
we share the silence, and an umbrella,
i walk away, to no mans land

"People like you find it easy,
Naked to see,
Walking on air.
Hunting by the rivers,
Through the streets,
Every corner abandoned too soon,
Set down with due care.
Don't walk away, in silence,
Don't walk away. "

open the door

time is moving forward
here I am frozen
this is where I stand,
people pass me by
unable to see me
they lock their doors
and live their lives
i am growing and aging
where can i hide?
the time when i was young
closing my eyes
i run towards everyone
now what am i running from?

these days

this is the start of it all
like the dawn you live in a dream
we can not breathe without
so close then, now that moment is gone
i take this burden when i am alone,
so safe and lost
i feel the hope is gone

a time of waste
wash away this bitter taste
now i have come to terms
the morning can not come

no sense of loss
you go on in your chamber
the walls are imposing
i wish you did the same
i am going further away
we don't touch like we used to
the same space at the same pace

i suffer this loss and live like there's joy,
where have we lost
i wish you could feel the same
a sense of reality
i always look at you
the sadness that you are absent

a time of waste
wash away this bitter taste
now i have come to terms
the morning comes

I've been looking so long at these pictures of you
That I almost believe that they're real
I've been living so long with my pictures of you
That I almost believe that the pictures are
All I can feel
- the cure

dinsdag 8 juli 2008

When it rains, it pours

"Someday a real rain will come and wash all this scum off the streets."

I think it's time I started writing again. You can thank some godforsaken, however beautiful, pradaboy for this, I must admit, I was inspired to actually write something proper again. This weather may have been the first sign of something real again, it's like the reality has been kicking at my door and suddenly burst, not through the door, but came down hard from the sky. Rain is a symbol of cleanliness, it washes away the dirt, and the sins and all that is naturally not right, i guess. Maybe this is a good thing, I am sitting here alone at my cool little mac, staring at the beautiful kids on the screen, looking outside at an empty street, it mirrors the world, outside my window is where the real world is, I think it's time to shut the blinds again, wait it's too early for some wine, is it?... Everything is flooded. I have been running around in circles for the last couple of months and working so much, I chose not to think. This is when I thrive, this is when I am in the best state of mind, the state of numbness. Every day was different from the next, you never knew what would hit you, now everything seems so silent and calm, and this is leaving me anxious, fuck, it can't just be me, i don't know what to do with all this time on my hands. Living the dream leaves you sometimes begging for structure and normal, petty things. Reality is that dreams are not always worth considering, let alone making them come true. If you work hard you will fullfill all of them, i am a perfect example of this. But trust me, when you have reached those highs - that many only wish they could get a glimpse of - it's hard to come down from the cloud, and the lows (read: normal days for normal people) just make you fucking depressed.

I have been shooting so much lately, I'm at my best being a photographer, a documentary maker. Lately I have been documenting young guys and girls, models, kids who have everything going for them. They still have that sparkle in their eyes, hope if you want to call it. I think I have that sparkle too, but only when everything is going exactly how I want it to be. Looking at all this from a distance, the distance becomes real and it does get you lonely sometimes, especially when there's nothing that can satisfy you more than success. I stare at them, from the outside trying to look in, and it's all fucking fantastic, but also very tiring. Not because they are so different, or young, or exciting, and full of life. Because you've been there, you were them, and you want to go back to that. I am okay with being a bit shallow, if you want to call me that. Don't worry i do get sick of it also, the empty words and plastic layers are sometimes so thick, it sometimes feels like i am suffocated by it. Is it something that comes with the job, in this small society, where everyone talks about each other, but no one really says anything? I can't get used to unjustice, but I believe in karma, and I also believe in myself and you can't rip that away with just a few stories about me, I do admire your guts though. It must be hard to look in the mirror, if you are living a lie, no? It's all one big acid trip that I am a playing a part in, I am tired of just 'a' part, fuck it, I am going to take the lead soon. But first, I need, no, I neeeeeed a trip, a journey to another city, another gloomy view from my window. I need a change, and it has too come quick, because this is all too familiar, and we all know that familiarity - something you get used to - is not something I do well.

"Loneliness has followed me my whole life. Everywhere. In bars, in cars, sidewalks, stores, everywhere. There's no escape... My life has taken another turn again. The days can go on with regularity over and over, one day indistinguishable from the next. A long continuous chain. Then suddenly, there is a change. " - Travis Bickle, Taxi Driver