My friend from Argentina says she is 58 years old. I look at her pigmented hands, (“too much sun my whole life,” she quickly says), her boney body, the difficulty with which she descends a few steps (“I hurt my knee”), the anger as she snaps at the taxi-driver for not knowing the way when […]
moreToxic and intoxicating, city of extremes. This is what everyone says about Rio. But it’s more than that. It’s all the little nuances inbetween the outer boundaries. When writing a novel you wonder about how to convey these without ending up writing only in clichés. The answer being: don’t even try. Don’t try to prove […]
moreI keep thinking about a recent conversation I had with my sister. She said, “I hate it when people don’t give beggars anything, or street-musicians for that matter. I mean how many beggars do we even have in Holland?” My sister hardly ever raises her voice. I may have only heard her do so twice […]
moreA 70-year-old man lies right in the middle of the pavement outside our apartment. He has an open wound from his knee all the way down to his foot. People pass him without even looking at him. I take a photo of him and simultaneously wonder why I find it necessary to do so.I continue […]
moreWhen I was a child, we lived in countries that had power-cuts, hurricanes, floods, droughts and earthquakes. Where schools in Europe had fire drills, we had earthquake drills. What were we taught to do? Drop off our chairs and sit under our desks with our hands over our heads. At home, my mother practiced something […]
moreI had somehow forgotten all about the men who walk down three-lane city streets during rush hour in only their swimming trunks. They stop for a fresh juice at a corner store. I had forgotten there’s much more of them than there are thong-bikini wearing females. It seems the women only undress on the beach.I […]
moreEverytime I see an organ, I think of my Hammond. I say “my Hammond” but I actually don’t have one. Once upon a time I did. It was never in my possession, but it was mine. My grandpa – the first of all grandparents to have died, and the one I have least memories of […]
moreDownload 22 Act I, scene 8 – Aria_ _Mentre Dormi, Amor Fomenti_ (Larghetto)
moreHere’s what’s so great about sharing office space with other creatives: I come in this morning (looking like crap, by the way, as I’ve been working hard and ignoring multiple flues, in the very least of the Mexican kind) and a graphic designer asks how I’m doing. I tell her things are looking good, because […]
moreLacrimosa means weeping. When sung by a choir to music written by Mozart, you do not need to know what it means. You understand. If someone were to ask me what I would dream to one day achieve with writing, it would be exactly that. To reccreate music in words that can be read and […]
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