In the weekend I read a funny article in the Dutch magazine 'VIVA' about how being untidy is not as bad as one thinks and how being tidy is vastly overrated. The title of the piece was "MESS IS MORE".
Well, I'm not so sure. At the moment, all of my house qualifies as 'mess is more'. I am painting items of furniture and doing this in my bedroom (bad for my health, apart from anything else), my son Thomas is re-arranging his room in his own way, I am in the process of moving stuff to the attic, the stuff is in transit on the staircase and the disorder in my study and my living-room is utterly depressing.
I'm constantly on edge, constantly looking for thins. I think a little bit of a mess (think: pile of magazines on the floor next to the sofa) can be relaxing, but a lot of it is definitely not something I would recommend. Less is more, more or less.
dinsdag 25 maart 2008
donderdag 6 maart 2008
Truth & Fiction
I am writing this story about a homeless man and his friendship with a young boy. Well, in fact, 'writing' is overstating things. I have begun writing it, my friend, the artist Gurli Feilberg (www.feilberg.nl)
has already made a beautiful drawing about it, but the story has been on the shelf for quite some time now, due to my busy professional and private lives.
Funny thing is that the main character of this story, the homeless man, keeps popping up. In real life, that is. This is hardly surprising, as I got the idea from real life in the first place.
It nonetheless feels strange, every time I see somebody who reminds me of my main character, Anton. A few days ago I was walking past Florenzia (a place in the Hague, where you can get great ice-cream, not that you'd care, but still...) and I saw a bike parked outside, with large plastic bags hanging from the bike handles. Anton's bike. Anton's belongings.
Well, even though I am finding it difficult to carve in time for writing, my characters find time to remind me they are still there.
has already made a beautiful drawing about it, but the story has been on the shelf for quite some time now, due to my busy professional and private lives.
Funny thing is that the main character of this story, the homeless man, keeps popping up. In real life, that is. This is hardly surprising, as I got the idea from real life in the first place.
It nonetheless feels strange, every time I see somebody who reminds me of my main character, Anton. A few days ago I was walking past Florenzia (a place in the Hague, where you can get great ice-cream, not that you'd care, but still...) and I saw a bike parked outside, with large plastic bags hanging from the bike handles. Anton's bike. Anton's belongings.
Well, even though I am finding it difficult to carve in time for writing, my characters find time to remind me they are still there.
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