Oh to be young again...

May 8th, 2006:

Lisse, Holland. A dreary Sunday afternoon turned into a day I'll always remember. I always encourage people not to laze the day away and to make it one we'll remember because there are too many days in our lives we never remember. So, on this grey and drizzly Dutch day, I encourage my friend to come with me to see the tulips, the famous Dutch tulips, before they wilt and die. We may never see them again...

Kees rents us bikes. We ride and stop to admire the ridiculous miles and miles of tulips. The colours are intense and vibrant and help against the grey backdrop. Contrasts of reds against greens that seem almost unnaturally intense. This is good, seeing something different and unique.

We get back late because we got a late start. Kees is waiting for us as we are the last fools to return our rented bikes. He asks us if we want to accompany him to Lisse, the small town nearby for a drink. He says he loves Canada and would like to talk about it. We both knew we didnt want to return to the boat right away and this would be much more interesting. How would we get there? In beautiful and typical Dutch style, Kees triple-rode us.

The small town square in Lisse was draped in greenery, trees, vines. Spring was definitely pushing. This reminded me of Europe, not like Rotterdam. Rembrandt's 'Anatomie' was displayed on a huge wall, made up entirely of hyacinth blooms. We had wine and tapas. Kees was joking that his son needed a good girl. I told him I was a bit old for his son.

It got late, Kees was having a good time being out, disrupting the routine. He had to triple-ride us back to his place as we had missed the last bus to the train station. In the dark we rode, on this narrow road alongside one of the millions of canals, the moon reflecting off the calm waters. The stillness occasionally broken by a coot. The stars were out and sparkling and a train accross the canal would occasionally roar by, leaving us afterwards in the silence and darkness, but for the glow of the moon. We swerved on the narrow road, tulips in hand, laughing nervously, hoping that this was going to end ok and not in the canal.

"I feel young again" Kees yelled out joyously. "You girls are making me feel young for one night". He recalls double riding his wife home in the dark when he was much younger. Im happy we could give Kees a memorable night, and recall his nostalgia, as Im beginning to question my existence here in the Nether regions.

Chem Trails

May 3rd:

Retrospect...

Lying on a bench near the canal - tired, watching the chemical criss-cross tracks of planes left in the sky. The crisp blue sky, clear delineated paths made by the silver tubes that contain hundreds of unsuspecting people, hurtling through the sky. I lie down and observe them crossing each other. Slowly today they eventually expand and fade, distant memories of an enormous undertaking. I get sleepy, my eyelids are heavy. I clench my purse and begin to dose under the vast Dutch sky. This sunshine and warmth are better for me than the boat now. I need this medecine.

My short-lived Happiness in a tale

May 2nd: In retrospect...

For a month I went missing. I was missing because I was happy - why? The sunshine. And the person who's smile and presence replaced the sun. My freedom to walk arm and arm at the market. We cross the bridge to the 'working-man's market'. Suddenly you are no longer in Holland as you imagine it. Here, we are in the South. The wild cries of prices for fresh produce, enticing colours, scents and sounds - its like a Turkish bazaar. But this is the market in Rotterdam. Functional crap from China everywhere interspersed with fresh ginger root, peppers from Surinam, Turkish spinach, bananas and plantains, fish everywhere. The sea is here! Dead of course, like a museum, but no one sees it that way. Its just food.

But I wonder where these fish swam. Somewhere far out in the deep, dark abyss of the ocean. The Atlantic? So cold...dark and lonely, except for the groups, the communities of fish. This is their world, their normality, taken away, hauled from their home, violently, miles and miles away, onto the stall where I now glance at their lifeless bodies. Mouths gaping, eyes wide and expressionless, on ice. Where were they swimming not long ago?

We move on, arm in arm and Im distracted by my hapiness, despite the cold, the neverending grey skies, the alienation and loneliness and confusion about my whereabouts.

To be in a foreign country, in an 'exotic' market with a new friend I happen to be enamoured by. I cant explain why. Arm in arm, a new acceptance of closeness not normally allowed back home without complicated implications. Here it is not complicated. Just a new friend to lean on because I am lonely and cold and he is warm. Here I stroll on the other side of the bridge, free and happy. Soaking up sights and smells and sounds, all foreign to me and different and colourful.

A seller remembers me from the tourist's market. Smiles cross my face, sometimes not. Sometimes its eye contact only and I try to burn my stare into someone, usually I cant hold a gaze very long without a quick glance away or to the ground.

Here my eyes are wide and fierce as I try and gather all that is around me as I know soon enough I will be back home, back into the familiar sights and sounds, busy cities, cars nearly running me over in a hurry to get nowhere fast. I miss home, but I want to soak this up. I want to learn more of the world and I want to hold on to this feeling of warmth without having to feel guilty or guarded. In a market in Rotterdam with a new friend I am happy for a minute.

Everyone is an Artist

May 1st:

A tall Gallician, one of the new actors on the boat. We talk about dolphins and whales in the Mediterranean. He gets the bartender to pour Havana Club with an exact amount of lemon juice, irritation radiating off of the barkeep. He is hitting me with some sort of electricity when he looks me in the eye. We talk about sunsets in Scotland.

The clouds here seem huge. Unobstructed by the tall buildings so familiar to our cities back home. The sky often looks like a canvas from another time. Nature, earth, she remains the same despite the shit we build.

He 'fancies everyone'. "Some romance this summer would be great" he says, while many are wary and reluctant. Some are open to the possibility of heaven with the risk of hell. Artists everywhere you go. Im not participating in all of that because I have someone back home who misses me. I drink the Havana Club and smile that Im not going to be a part of the games people will play in this company.

May Day

May 1st, 2006:

Today is Labour Day. Workers should be off today. Today. Grey and cold and dreary. It felt like the first day of school in September after the holidays have finished. The bliss is over for me and in return...depression. Oh no, not you again. You have been with me for so long, you'd think that by now we could set aside our poisonous differences?

Malheur, mal au coeur
Nuages gris, Pluie
qui tombe, sombre et silencieux
Oh que je n'aime pas la pluie
L'Ennui dans le gris
Si je pouvais, je resterais en lit - mais pas ici
Pas ici ou c'est triste et noirci
J'veux etre avec les esprits qui m'on fuit
Ca suffit, je pleure pour mes amis partis

Fini.
(Hieronymous Bosch)

For some reason...

On April 23rd, this was scribbled:

"Bliss in the cold Holland rain, on a boat in a cabin that is cold,,," Which goes to show we can find happiness in very odd places, at very odd times, under very strange circumstances. I know happiness is fleeting however, but its nice to know I had it there for a moment. That is progress.

The Sea as Healer

April 3, 2006:

At an art gallery in Den Helder, a sea-side town in northern nether-region, 'singer-songwriter' night. There is actually an inordinate amount of artistic talent in this little country. The ride up here to Den Helder was refreshing. The flat landscape, the necessary windmills, looking into the sunset and seeing a receding line of those new modern windmills until the orange, blinding light of the sun forced us to look away. Then, approaching the North Sea, hundreds of birds on barren fields, rabbits everywhere, swans, gulls,and then sheep.

This night was ok if not a bit mellow and alientating. I sat and wrote postcards with wine and candlelight. Our new friends sang their songs and I was very impressed by the natural ease of the beauty in their voices. The next day we walked right into one of Friedrich's canvases - the sky and sea a million different nuanced shades of blues, greens and greys. The open-sky - horizon to horizon - so vast, luminescent - from shore to sand dunes with nothing impeding our view. Clouds racing through the victorious sunshine. Sea birds everywhere, flying in formation. Hundreds of geese so high above, lower are the gulls who peruse the dunes, dunes that keep Holland from dissapearing into the sea. They glide effortlessly riding the updraft that sweeps up from the dunes.

We sat for herbal tea on the beach, slightly raised above the sea level. The bright red container ship against a canvas of blues, also gliding, approaching the shallow flats. Horses galloping, hundreds of dogs, people, bikes, striped sea shells, everything flat, vast and sunny.
A baby sat out on the deck with us, a large dog sniffing its tiny soft head, whisps of blonde hair dancing frenetically in the sea breeze. Then a bumble bee, three times the size of our little urban bees, sat on its shiny hair. This red and furry monster landed on the baby's head and nobody was afraid. The father gently removed the giant from the little one's unsuspecting head, where it had landed. MMMMMM, I do like this level of civility and calm. But now, broken, Im back to the lunacy which is this boat, this confusion and work. At least I'm back in a bed that is 'mine'.

Massive Mail

This is perhaps the best way to let everyone know how im doing and what Im up to and what things are like on a circus-theatre boat in one of the greyest, wettest, windiest countries in the world. A country that lies below sea level, a country where pot is legal and girls can display their wares in their fishtank storefront offices under the red neon lights, where the north sea winds blow the clouds over the land, where it rains for five minutes then its sunny then it rains then its sunny then it rains then its sunny.....

So, where to begin. At least I hope you all know that Im in Holland and have been for a month now. I arrived with much confusion and doubt but never expected what I'd walk into. As you can imagine, working for 50 euro a week,on a rickety theatre boat may not sound like a 'great opportunity' unless you crave being abroad in Europe and change. Its not glamorous to say the least. I sleep in a cabin thats is the size of a closet on a thin foam mattress on some wooden slats. At night I read my Travel Stories book and think perhaps one day I'll write a story about this. Maybe its not that interesting and Im just exaggerating it all in my head, but I think sometimes you can find stories wherever you go, even it nothing much is going on. Here's a summary for you all cuz I want to stay connected to all of you beautiful people that make me happy when Im sitting out in the cold Netherland rain thinking about sweet, sweet Canada.

Working in an office is the same all around the world. Granted this is a
Canadian company so why would it operate much differently? The difference is that I thought this was a supposed to be a beautiful social collective,everyone helping out with this and that. The production is supposed to be a concsious theatrical expression, bringing thought-provoking theatre and circus artistry, music and fire and dancing etc to people that normally can't afford to go to an elaborate production. The concept is so good. The idea is there...the reality is different.

I lasted about two weeks in the office before being 'fired'. Fired is not the word they used, they said they 'couldnt afford me anymore'. I saw how they were working my friend Jax, pressure, pressure, no appreciation. I felt their complete indifference to my arrival on the boat. I could tell they didnt like the way I took time for breaks and hints to Jax not to kill herself working. I could also tell they didnt like the way I cooked for everyone cuz that wasnt hidden. A very spicy curry cauliflower dish wasnt well received a) "CUZ THERE'S NO MEAT IN IT!!!!!!! and b) ITS TOO SPICY. So the seeds of revolution would be planted in the food that we cooked. When it came for our night to cook we'd make the spiciest dishes that were well-received by all except for the King who was become exactly what he is preaching against. This boat is like a real-life Animal Farm, where some equals are treated better than other equals.

Anyways, Im being a dorky literary nerd. The first two weeks were spent adjusting. It wasnt easy. Such close proximity to those you work with is VERY difficult. We see each other every day. There are ups and downs to say the least. I found sanctuary in Zen. Not the philosophy, but the bar. Zen bar is right above the boat and is the greatest bar in the world. The owner, Vai is the sweetest and most generous person Ive met in ages. Friday nights at Zen are karaoke nights and the Dutch are so hopelessly lost in late 80's early 90's pop. We often end up singing such shit songs but its fun and its such a reprieve from the bullshit on the boat and the homesickness and the fucking rain!!!!! After I got 'fired' I was faced with 'what now?'. The woman in charge told me I could stay on the boat as long as I needed to figure my shit out. Hmmmmmm, what to do. I was supposed to stay here until June. Now its mid-April and I have no source of income, no matter how piddley. On top of that,
Jax is getting more and more down about the situation here, the crappy office, the little condescending comments that are unecessary, the general lack of appreciation after having uprooted from home to help these dorks fulfill THEIR dream!!!!! So a few evenings at the Irish pub were necessary to try and sort out our miseries. We came up with some pretty brilliant plans.

Since Jax knows now how to spin FIRE we thought about busking our way down south. Then in June, meeting up with the beautiful Alex who would, in typical knight-in-shining-armour style, come to rescue us and lead us into the Atlas mountains in Morocco with a turban on his head, into the sunset...(sorry Alex I know you're probably not aware that you're involved in our elaborate scheme, but communication is really hard here and I'd rather talk to you about important stuff than silly cartoon fantasies about Casablanca and hookas). Things were getting rough but I found some under-the-table work at a Travel Cafe. Chane, a pretty Dutch man of Moroccan origin shared some stories with me, so I shared my tale of being ditched in Rotterdam w/ no income and he asked if I wanted to sub in on Saturday. So, I
helped wash dishes and learned how to use the European industrial coffee machine. Two lesbians left me their numbers in case I needed shelter in the future, I was learning that Rotterdam, despite its banal, modern and business-like facade, is a really friendly and warm place. The next couple of days I worked at Zen, also in the kitchen washing dishes, but this dishwashing for some reason, brought me great peace and happiness. I dont know what it is, but sometimes the simplest tasks, some hard work, can make one so happy. Maybe it was just that I was finding a way to get by despite being illegal here. I made more than I would in Canada if I were getting paid minimum wage! Im starting to really like Holland.

A picnic on Sunday with Jax and Carlos, a darling and FABULOUS gay Puerto Rican from Florida resulted in a night at the KeerWeer, the gay dance club. I dont know what it is about gay clubs but they are SOOOOO much fun. The silly pop dance music, fun flashy colours, dancing men that DONT grab you...so good. So we had a blast and I was starting to feel better about being fired from the circus. The people here found a scooter in the trash. Those step pedal scooters, the little things. Its so much fun here because the bike trail system is so well-established. I can get anywhere in half the time. I LOVE it. So I spent a few days scooting along in Rotterdam wearing my new sparkly orange headscarf in honour of this new land that has been so warm to me despite the callousness of my employers.

One day I was soooo tired and sad and homesick that I took a nap on one of the benches along the canal and watched the planes make criss cross patterns in the sky and then I felt better.

The other day I went with Carlos to the 'working man's market' to buy vegetables for the boat and it was so facinating. So many colours and people and junky garbage made in China and fresh vegetables and noise and clutter.

So much to stimulate the senses. We'd occasionally point out men that we both thought were cute, then buy some veggies and stroll arm in arm as to not get separated since both our attentions spans are about 30 seconds. These moments in time are really what we need to remember and cherish. Im not kidding, I sound like a preachy dork who's enamoured by what is different and new, and foresure thats true to a certain extent, but Im realizing its really the smaller things in life that need to be appreciated in order to better the whole.....ok, Im getting way ahead of myself. Hmmmmm.

Nope, didnt smoke pot today, but sometimes just standing in the coffee shops here can get you buzzed. I dont smoke all the time. Maybe twice since Ive been here and i think thats pretty good. And I wouldnt dare smoke a cigarette despite it being allowed EVERYWHERE.

Vai knows a Turkish superstar named Ragga Oktay. He is Dutch but is Turkish by descent. He returned to Turkey first to try out for Galatasaray, Istanbul's big soccer club, and then to become a pop-star. It was his 30th birthday last weekend and we were invited to watch the Turkish belly dancerand Jax got to spin fire for everyone. Then we watched as champagne was poured and NOBODY drank their glasses. So I helped to clean up and found many untouched glasses of champagne, and well, champagne is a terrible thing to waste. I ended up leaving with a top hat on and Jax stumbling back to the boat to tend to Jackie's burn wound.

Jax became more and more disenchanted with this boat nonsense and told themso. Being as down as she was I told her to go to Amsterdam to visit Peter our good Dutch friend for a couple of days to rejuvenate. I went over there a day later and let me tell you, Amsterdam is fucked. I love it but it is such a fucked up crazy place. The buildings are all crooked, there's 'urban art' sticking out of everywhich corner,and the tiny sinister alleyways in the red-light district are from another planet. I cant help but love it though. I scootered up and down the red light district until I met up with Jax in the A-dam but the cobblestones were way too much for the little guy and now she's broken. We walked around in Amsterdam and I got an email from the bosses offering me 'a work proposition'. This makes me laugh cuz I feel its clearly in light of Jackie telling them she's out and its their last ditch effort to keep things together. We got back after they went to bed and now they're in Scotland till wednesday. Sooooooooo, I find out what this 'work opportunity' is and then we take it from there.

Regardless of what they say, there's no way Im staying on this boat beyond May. I do want to see this insane production materialize, but beyond that, Im done. Then I hope my knight-in-shining-armour will come and sweep me into the Sahara...or we rush to Germany to see the World Cup madness...again, getting ahead of myself, no guarantees in life, and especially here. They may re-hire me and fire me the next day. And I wouldnt really care.

So those are some stupid tales from the Nether regions. I am still trying to find the right moment to put up some pictures and send them out too. I miss all of you a lot and hope everyone is doing well. Please let me know how you are, how you're doing, feeling, thinking. Tell me how much better the weather is where you are cuz its foresure better than here. Miss you, luv

Cacti in Rotterdam

May 4th:

Absolutely not chronological because there is about a month missing here. A month where a lot happened, bliss and sunshine and bridges and scooters and markets....appreciating the colour of fruits and vegetables amongst the chaos of yells in Dutch with Turkish accents about 1 euro banana bunches etc.....Anyways, I need to get this off my chest because I think its hilarious. Art shows with free wine are great but sometimes the free booze is necessary as it was tonight. For me to appreciate the finer points in cacti plucking I did need the four or five plastic glasses of red wine. I walked into a quiet room, dark except for grow lights showering naked orchid plants, hanging from wires with water-test tube things clamped onto them....then a crowd gathered around what? Dripping noise...maybe some sort of green house demonstration? No, three people, gazes focused intensely on a table full of cacti, pine cones, dried leaves and stalks...other 'florae'....The dripping noise I heard was actually a woman intensely plucking a cactus plant that was mic'd up. She was plucking it with a toothpick. Meanwhile the other lady was shaking a dried bean pod and a man was sitting and occasionally stroking a mic'd cactus with a brush. This was supposed to be some sort of contemporary symphony. I was laughing on the inside, but Boaz, the crazy out of control welder from Israel got hammered and was commenting about the "soulful cactus solo" and I couldnt help but let out a laugh which wasnt received well from the hardcore florae enthusiasts in the front row. I cant believe this crazy world we live in. Is it beautiful that some of us can put a bunch of dried plants and pods and mic up some cacti and have an audience, clapping and whistling no less at toothpick-plucking cactus spines? There are people in this world that dont see the light of day, stuck in factories to feed their babies, people dying in wars, people fighting for nothing, people living in landfill sights collecting scrap metal......and people plucking cacti w/ toothpicks and getting an audience to clap at the beauty of it all. Crazy. Im not judging, I have no opinion in general cuz art is subjective, but I mean Jesus Christ, mic'd up cacti? What a hilarious world we live in. Im not complaining cuz the red wine was free flowing and red wine has become one of my best friends here in Holland, in the Nether-regions of this world, a land under sea-level, wind blowing, freezing one day, hot and smoggy the next...Today is memorial day for war vets here in Holland. Tomorrow is Liberation Day!

Coots

25 March:

Today was the first real day of spring and we walked to the Euro park with Johannes the Dutch, Dado the Serb and Gary the spritely Canadian. These guys are all relatively old dudes which was funny for me and Jax cuz it was just us and the international geezers. What lovely company though. Refreshing to hear stories and observations unlike our own.

We sat down in front of the still water of a pond, gazed at the sun spraying through the still bare trees and discussed coots. Coots are unlike any bird you'll see in Toronto. They're black with white beaks and really huge feet. They squeak like toys. I love them because they will constantly remind me of here in the way that magpies will forever remind me of Provence. I was in hell yesterday but today I feel better and tomorrow's another day. Adaptability is a prized virtue.

"Follow Your Bliss"

March 23:

"Follow your bliss". He is well traveled, a face wrinkled like a half-clenched hand, lizard-like. He speaks of swimming with dolphins, looking at them and "looking into the eye of god". When he gets off the boat he leaps, jumps, swings, like a young person. Like my father used to do. He speaks of the environment and the necessity to 'save our species'. He spent most of his life in PR and marketing new models of Hondas and making loads of $ in so doing. So, now after this life, he can tell me to "follow my bliss". Bliss, swimming with dolphins, traveling...doesnt come easily when one has a 30 000$ University loan and is earning 50 Euro a week. I live in a closet on a 'theatre boat'docked in a cold and wet port town in the Nether-regions. Its funny how someone can live his life working for a corporate giant - contributing to this Babylon System and then, once the wealth is accumulated, he can afford to extricate himself from it. He does so and tells us to 'follow our bliss'. Hmmmm. Maybe you need to be a part of it to realize how unfulfilling it all is, and then you learn to run away...but how to run away and enjoy without the means. Hmmmmm.
Nice sentiments, very pleasant and informed person, one of the nicest Ive met so far on this adventure. Much more gracious and social than those that are 'hosting' me. Its amazing how the concept of this production and venue appealed to me so much - a production (fire, dancing, flying, music) performed on the boat, from town to town, bringing theatre to 'those that normally cannot access it', about displaced peoples, refugees finding nothing close to refuge in the West...a hypothetical 'containment camp' a la Guantanamo Bay on US soil...their plight sung soulfully at dusk on the deck of the ship...

This place is run like any office, with a clear hierarchy and delineation of importance granted to people. Self-righteous folk, disdain for religion and vegetarians. Fuck. People try to be so important in their causes. It just seems to result in self-fulfilling efforts. Self gratification. They cant even look me in the eyes when they are talking to me!!!!
People that think they are better, or more clairvoyant, more 'visionary' than others end up defeating their own purpose and wind up as closed minded preachers. Exactly what you reject!!!! The more I try to find something in this world, a place to be, to fit, a home, the more dissapointed and alienated I feel. Humans are a virus, slowly rotting this place, slowly choking it off from its inate perfection.

There is a goat out there named Bibo. He lives outside of Bremen, Germany. I want to go and take Bibo with me across Europe, walking, seeing it all, no one bothering me because I dont care. Not for your selfish desires. And no, I wont eat Bibo if I get hungry. I'll let him eat the grass and I'll sit and watch and eventually someday someone will come by with some extra vegetable soup.

Rotterdam: the armpit of Benelux

March 20th

Amsterdam is a darling of a city, tinged with the sinister glowing red lights, women hawking their wares, bouncing on their plastic chairs, sanitary spray nearby, coffee in hand...another day in the office.

There are things sticking out of every which corner, sculptures, iguanas, faces, hanging stuff, colours...and I did it sober this time - imagine that. The buildings are actually crooked. Everything is so random and I LOVE the random. Amsterdam is really a special place. Will write more about it.

Here in the port of Rotterdam - meeting eccentric people - drinking wine I cant afford, reading about Van Gogh and somehow, perhaps completely selfishly and in my own imagination, feeling a connection to him. He was born in this grey, wet, northern European clime (where I am now). He escaped down to the south of France to find clarity , colours, intensity, sunshine. Fresh herbs and burning wood tinging the air, lending it a distinct aroma. Hearing the magpies squeak on a crisp winter day (as I did when I lived in Aix-en-Provence, wandering the cobblestones and trying to absorb the beauty around me when inside was so dark). He was depressed and mentally ill. Not that I am, all the time anyways. He started his career relatively late in life, was about 26.

The Van Gogh museum in Amsterdam is a dreary place. Its grey and cold. Van Goghs paintings are often beautiful and colourful and do radiate a certain amount of warmth, at their most inspired. But there are also many uninspired works, placed in the museum because of who made them and not the quality of the art itself. Whatever, art is subjective I guess. In any case, its a sad place and Van Gogh had a pretty tragic existence, the voices in his head plaguing him, the visions scaring him when nothing was really wrong. And then you read about him, see his sensitive, beautiful and vulnerable images...I was actually feeling really emotional trying to imagine his life...and now....throngs of people cramming into this building to see his uninspired discards...just because it was him. Imagine if he were to know. He'd probably be dissapointed that the building is such a cold and dreary place.

Amsterdam is absolutely fabulous.

How people celebrate my Birthday

March 17th is a happy holiday in the grey winter months where people around the world gather to celebrate my birthday. All around the world you'll find people gathering, slamming beers together, dancing jigs to toast me a Happy Birthday. Im pretty lucky that way. Even over here in the Nether-regions they've made a tradition of it. I found that out this year.