donderdag 2 februari 2023

My life as an amateur. Part 57.

I am the mosquito. In autumn. I need to rest. Because of my feelings. And I need to find some titles for some new paintings. Someone with great taste, I hope we will be friends one day, bought a painting from me last year. This week she told me that she liked it much better upside down. A friend of hers, a great abstract artist, likes it better this way too.

We are having this family weekend in the middle of the country. It is freezing and it is sunday and at the other side of the road there is an old fashioned treadmill with three horses walking circles. It coincides with a great book I am happily reading. ‘Half Broke Horses’, A true-life novel written by Jeannette Walls. I am planning to walk the road from Hondo to Lincoln to Captain to Carrizozo. I am planning to make rough paintings full of rubbish this coming week.

John Fowles’ Daniel Martin. I can’t stand the noise of the television, it’s invading my brains and I tumble down. But before that happens I find all the people acting in whatever there is to be acted in on television very very stupid and annoying.

Who am I to interfere with nature. Today I will keep my eyes closed. While working. My father started his working career as a sailor on the Holland America Line. He sailed to Vancouver where he fell into the belly of the ship. He stayed for three months in a hospital in Seattle. That where he learned to say fuck you, to be used in his later life when something didn’t worked out the way he wished it would. Before he went to sleep he peeled an onion and ate it like an apple. My sister was only born seven years after me.

I like my ears.

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