My life as an amateur. Part 31.

 I do not have time to hurry. Like everyone else I attend zoom meetings. Last week, I forgot which day, I told my zoom company that I want to do less things in a day. And in a week. There was a comment: why would you, if you like the things you do, what is the problem? I am not sure if I was content with this comment.

I dreamt about the potatoes in our kitchen storage. They were rooting like crazy. So today we will have spinach with mashed potatoes for dinner. And some old chourico.Nothing fancy. 

They stopped the eating part of living. Enough is enough. The pronunciation of ‘corned beef’ by my mother. Kornetbief did sound like a dutch product to me, something healthy, like tomatoes. Maybe she was right after all.

I found a book about writing, about how you can extract a reason to live by writing, even if you are not a writer. That is good news.

Today I heard a new word, in Dutch, so I can not write it down here. It was ‘schotelbuurt’. It sounds very inviting. With hot meals three times a day.

My life as an amateur. Part 30.

 I repeat, at the end of the day. At the end I wonder,  like everyone else, what does it mean to have lived this day. One stroke of paint, one sentence of words, ( if you can call it that ), several pages of Molloy, several pages of The Decameron ( I love the Middle Ages, don’t know where it comes from ), an accomplished drawing. The notification of a fly, a slow one, but quick enough. I am using the color beige on almost every painting, after starting with other colors like viridian green, sap green, cobalt blue and vermillion, cadmium yellow hue and warm gray.

I just made a work of art in one minute with some water paint, pencil and crayon: the tree and its shadow at the R.V. Kade. The grass is cadmium yellow hue, the shadow is at the wrong side of the tree. It’s amazing how nature works. Last night I was called a ‘he’ in a piece about my work. I liked it. Another reader told the writer that I am a ‘she’. Such a pity. Stop. I keep my nails short.

When my sister-in-law comes to visit us and sleep over, she brings her own power-strip. To empower all of her devices at once. Just before she goes to sleep.

My life as an amateur. Part 29.

Or any other day. Yes. As long as it is not so dramatic like some parts of my life as an amateur. This evening I abandoned a book called ‘Utopia’. The book contains a chapter about Dystopia as well. I found that more interesting.

Today we went to the garden. There was a lot of wind, and some big green mosquitos named ring-necked parakeets. So we thought let us pick our luck and took a lumberjack saw and after one hour and a half their tree went down. The stormy weather was a big help. Great afternoon. Deleting things can be constructive. I took most of the words of this Part 29 out because it was so over-informative it suffocated itself. Texts have feelings too.

When I was little and still living with my parents I felt sorry for an old table they threw out, just down from the balcony. Where is this going to end is what I thought.

We lived on the second floor. The people who lived on the fourth did it with washing machines and vacuum cleaners. 

I slapped a wasp one day in the overgrowth between the furniture. A boy from the third floor stomped me on the nose in return. All of a sudden he thought himself a lover of all creatures. My father came down to hit him on the ear. The end.

Some people are lucky, at the end of the day.