In Your Eyes (under a beautiful bright rainbow)

Yesterday I went to see Peter Gabriel in concert in the Westerpark in Amsterdam. PB took me. It’s not going to be on top of my concerts-of-the-year-list in December, but it was nice to see Gabriel again.

It must have been some 12 or 13 years ago that I saw him. With M., in The Hague! That was a pretty expensive and long evening, as I remember. M. and I missed our last train back to Haarlem by just one minute or so. There were still trains going to Utrecht where she lived (and still lives), but her dog Lucky was at my place. So there was not much else we could do than to just wait for, I think, an hour to get a train to Schiphol and from there take a taxi home.
To be honest: after all those years I don’t remember much of the concert, but I do recall our long ride home…

Peter Gabriel was in town to play a few fan favorites. It was a bit boring in the beginning to be honest. The evening hadn’t fallen in, we already had some rain and the show wasn't the least overwhelming.
In fact the beautiful, complete, and very bright rainbow (there was even a double rainbow at one point) that hang over the field for almost half an hour was much more impressive than Peter Gabriel and his band.

But still, as the last sunlight slowly disappeared, leaving only that typical Dutch dark cloudy and magnificent sky behind as a perfect stage for a couple of the very best of PG’s songs, there was enough to be thankful for.
Solsbury Hill is a song I could have placed in my list of happy songs a few days ago on this blog.
And although this year it’s 30 years ago already that the South African political activist Steve Biko was killed, the monumental protest song that Gabriel wrote shortly after that hasn’t lost any of it’s power, as I know now. A bit to my surprise, honestly, but I hadn’t heard the song in ages. It must be the bagpipes in this song, they’re the strongest weapon on earth as my friend L. used to say. When Gabriel played Biko yesterday, there were even some fists raised in the air as token of solidarity. Pretty cool, come to think of it.

There was In Your Eyes to truly be grateful for. Not a song you need to hear every day. Once a year will do just fine. And if you want to skip a year, it’s even better. Because then, when you hear it again…Oh, go play it…! (But do take the special mix version, please!)





I want to stand and stare again…

James De La Vega<<<

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A New Neighbour

I had already taken a few sips of a very hot but good cup of coffee when I suddenly felt like I was being watched. But by whom?
Okay, I don’t always lock the front door at night, but I was pretty sure that by now I would have noticed if someone had sneaked in, since I was out of bed for at least an hour and my house isn’t that big.
I looked around. There was no one on the balcony. Oeps, my cat, was nowhere to be seen - probably still asleep. Still I felt like someone was watching every single move I made.

And then I saw her. I had a new neighbour. She had made her home just outside my living room window and now she was sitting proudly in the middle of her self-build palace of sticky threads observing her new surroundings. I have no idea where she comes from and no clue about how long she's going to stay, but she didn't look like too much trouble to me. So despite the fact that I am not that neighbourly in general and because I was in a very good mood I raised my cup of coffee with a big smile and wished her 'a very good catch!'.

This weekend I am kind of stuck to home because of my weekend shift. I have to be stand by. Yesterday that meant not much more than just waiting for the alarm telephone to ring, which happened only ones and it didn’t cost a lot to find out that the alarm was false.
Being more or less forced to spend a day around the house I took the opportunity to seriously listen to some music for a whole afternoon, evening and even a part of the night. Complete albums this time, some of which I hadn’t heard in years.
It was pretty good actually, something I should give myself time for more often. Just me, some burning candles, a beer and... Music.

Here’s what I played:

Inside In/Inside Out – The Kooks (2006)
Pretty In Black – Raveonettes (2005)
The Futureheads – The Futureheads (2004)
We Have Sound – Tom Vek (2005)
Big City – Zita Swoon (2007)
Derdang Derdang – Archie Bronson Outfit (2006)
Love Is Here – Starsailor (2001)
Beautiful Freak – Eels (1996)
The Triumphs & Travails Of Orphan Mae – Laura Veirs (2005)
Is This Desire? – PJ Harvey (1998)
Low – David Bowie (1977)
Meat Is Murder – The Smiths (1985)
OK Computer – Radiohead (1997)

Sweet dreams

I had the weirdest dream last night. I woke up a little dizzy because of it. Let me try to get some loose pieces together.

First off all there was D., who literally sucked off the thumb of my right hand (!). That caused some stress because my right hand is also my writing hand and I do write a lot (and not only behind a computer). D. stayed very calm about it though.

For those who are curious: according to this dream a sucked off thumb appears to be a very strange experience. It's not bleedy or really painful or anything, not at all in fact. It looks very clean, with just two slightly scraped surfaces on either side. The main problem is really that you are stuck with a loose body part. I kept it in my mouth for a while. That is what you read about, don't you: that you have to keep it in your mouth to enlarge the chance of succesfully sewing it back on...

Anyway, for reasons I don’t know I temporarily stayed in a small and messy apartment building that had some likeness of my old home at the Amsterdamse Vaart, where I lived some ten years ago, and I do remember there where some people I knew back then - like JL’s old girlfriend T - walking around in this dream.
It became violent when I had broken in someone’s house carrying a gun. I remember being mad at somebody. When I almost got caught there was a shooting. And I think I killed someone.
I flew and found myself on a ferry. On board there was a mix of people I know from the past and present. Sitting on a bench on the deck of the ship, I was trying to hide a bag with two guns in it. To my surprise I had my thumb sewed on again, showing only a vague scar. My right hand did feel a little numb, but it was okay, I think…

'Sparendam'

While in Spaarndam – on the northeast side of Haarlem – on a sunny Sunday a couple weeks ago I came across a local painter named Remco Haantjens. He was working. The picturesque village center around the ‘Kolk’ provided him a perfect scenery for a new painting. And with his jaunty black hat and coat, his neatly trimmed grey little beard and long blue woolen shawl he fitted in so perfectly, that I asked him if could take some pictures of him. He agreed, and asked me in return if I could send him some of them afterwards. Well, okay!
Back home, when I was looking on his website for an email address, I not only saw his work, but found out a little bit more about who he was as well. I learned for example that despite his very Dutch name he was born and raised in Bolivia.
I mailed him a few of my pictures, and he replied wih a big 'thank you!'. He also promised me to send me a picture of the Spaarndam painting back as soon as he had finished it.

The next day already I got the promised picture.

Now, apart from the fact that this is not the kind of painting that I would hang above my couch, there is something intriguing about it. It had me puzzled to be honest. It is the title: Sparendam. (See left bottom corner)
According to his other work he must live in Haarlem or nearby for quite some years now – I mean, he is no stranger. And his style of painting requires a sharp eye for details. Then why miss-spelling the name of the village after you spend an entire Sunday painting its scenery?

Btw: One of the pictures I send him is on his website now

Happy songs

Regular readers of this blog - I know there's only a few, but I cherish them - will have noticed that I was a little bluesy these last couple of weeks. With a reason. Something that had become very good to me, something I had grown very attached to, suddenly stopped - out the blue. I knew it was something that was not very likely to last for a very long time, but still... I didn't see this ending coming.
Now there's a lot you can do when something like this happens. And then again there's not.
I made a few mistakes that I regret, but I'm sure will be forgiven.

There's also the music. There is always the music.
There is beautiful sad music, that will go with the mood you are in at times like these - like Elvis Costello's untouchable I want you, or The beautiful ones by Prince. There's Nothing compares to you, beautifully performed by Sinead O'Connor. Or what to think about Joy Divisions Love will tear us apart? Or Jacques Brel's Ne me quite pas? Wow.
But no. I'm going for happy songs this time. All together, I had almost seven months of very precious time. And a lot to keep close to my heart. It started out of nowhere and it became something that I can only be happy about. Despite the fact that it had to end a bit sooner than I had wanted.
I give you sixteen of my happy songs randomly- songs that will get me happy, no matter what circumstances. All dedicated to the one that made me smile and feel good for a lot more days then we had ever imagined.
Ready? Do play them, when you feel sad. They're not necessarily all very good songs, but that is not the point.

-Moondance, Van Morrison
-Stuck in the Middle, Stealers Wheel
-Dancing in the Moonlight, Thin Lizzy
-New York Telephone Conversation, Lou Reed
-Kodachrome, Paul Simon
-Beat Surrender, The Jam
-Born to Run, Bruce Springsteen
-Dancing Barefoot, Patty Smith
-Beat Crazy, Joe Jackson
-Let them all talk, Elvis Costello
-Don't stop me now, Queen
-Do you want to hold me, Bow Wow Wow
-I.G.Y, Donald Fagen
-Kids in America, Kim Wilde
-Panic, The Smiths
-Hanging on the telephone, Blondie

I got a lot more, but you got the idea. Take care.

(Big kiss 4 D. - U'll be in my heart no matter what, that's a promise. <<<<)
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On fire (again)

Left of Center

If you want me

You can find me

Left of center

Off of the strip

In the outskirts

In the fringes

In the corner

Out of the grip

.

When they ask me

"What are you looking at?"

I always answer

"Nothing much" (not much)

I think they know that

I'm looking at them

I think they think

I must be out of touch

.

But I'm only

In the outskirts

In the fringes

On the edge

And off the avenue

If you want me

You can find me

Left of center

Wondering about you

.

I think that somehow

Somewhere inside of us

We must be similar

If not the same

So I continue

To be wanting you

Left of center

Against the grain

.

If you want me

You can find me

Left of center

Off of the strip

In the outskirts

And in the fringes

In the corner

Out of the grip

.

When they ask me

"What are you looking at?"

I always answer

"Nothing much" (not much)

I think they know

I'm looking at them

I think they think

I must be out of touch

.

But I'm only

In the outskirts

And in the fringes

On the edge

And off the avenue

And if you want me

You can find me

Left of center

Wondering about you

Wondering about you

Pep-talk

Would it really help? Talking to your plants, I mean. You know, support 'm a little on their way. I guess it wouldn't hurt, would it?

Eeh....

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Come on! You can do it! That's allright! All the way up. Let me see what you can do...!!

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I feel pretty silly actually...

<

Snapshot

For Miss D, with a big smile and a blowkiss...

That's the story

Bad start of the day. There’s a lot to say about that, and a lot to be sorry about. I won’t. Not here, not now. Let’s just say: I’m glad there are trains. For tonight, I’ll leave you folks with a song. The rest is for tomorrow. In good faith. Wanna sing along?

That's the story of my life

That's the difference between wrong and right

But Billy said, both those words are dead

That's the story of my life

(and one more time...!)

Sweet

Hmmmm...

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Going for a walk

(click to enlarge pictures)