A reminder

A guy in the train. He saw me stare at his tattoo, and smiled.

Not like I'd forget, anyway.

Sleeping Smof

Nijmegen: behind the church.

Many dutch cities have managed to preserve the core of their old towns around their tall churches made of red bricks, and Nijmegen is no exception. The biggest church's  original name as a catholic worship place was "St Steven" (st Stephen), but when its people converted to protestantism, they very originally decided to rename it "Grote Kerk" (the big church.)


I've personally decided to call it "The Frankenstein Church", because whoever built, rebuilt, and added to it obviously didn't care much about keeping the whole coherent. So there's white, cathedralish looking parts, red bricks, dark grey stones... It is certainly original and interresting historically speaking, but not the prettiest building ever. In addition to that, the inside, duly voided of any decorations, feels huge, stern, and empty (but I probably only feel this way because I'm so used to catholic churches). 


The houses around it are very cute however.  You can walk a few meters there without any signs of modern civilization, just imagining a golden haired little girl selling flowers in the cold air of an autumn morning. 


Ps: Here are some real pictures of the church.

Watercolour addict

Amongst other oddities, one or our cats has become addicted to the taste of watercolor cubes. If I don't watch out and leave the desk for 5 minutes, she'll be licking the paint off my metallic painting kit, or drinking the dirty paint water, or even - my favorite- licking the wet paint off the drawing I'm working on. Considering that she is still alive despite the quantities of the stuff that she has ingested by now, I'm guessing it's not too toxic.

Texel

 Texel is mostly like any part of the Netherlands in that it's very, very flat, well organized, clean, and as far as we could see, quite moist.  But there were seals in the sea - just like at Molène- and the beach was covered with little pieces of black flint, which made the coast particularly beautiful. (In case you're wondering, it's a starfish the seagull is eating... and yes, it swallowed it whole. Glup.

 

I didn't like the first town we visited, De Koog, too much. It felt like a tourist trap and it was full of German people.  But the second, Den Burg (such an original name) was very cute. Inhabitants were selling local vegetables by setting them in small trays outside their door, indicating the price; if you wanted one, you would need to toss the indicated price in the mailbox, but no- one seemed to be checking.

There was this great restaurant, but I forgot the name- and then that tea. Anyone know where to get nettle tea in Holland? I'd never had any before and I loved it.  

Message pour l'au delà.

Morning tea

Peace is the smell of orange flavored tea and toasted bread in the kitchen of a long lost house, with the morning sun pouring in through the curtains, and my mum turning to smile at me.

Come on you fallen star, I refuse to let you die...

'Cause that's wrong
And I've been waiting for too long...


Yeah it's wrong
And I've been waiting for too long...


For you to be,

be, be, be

be mine....
For you to be mine...

(...)



















(Lyrics: Placebo, Centerfolds. A song that always still makes me incredibly melancholic.)

From Yvone Bazin de Jessey's picture book.

While staying at my granmother's, I discovered a picture book belonging to her own mother. The pictures were of course all in black and white, so I invented colors for them.

 The family was none too poor, apparently - I figured these were dresses for special days, but according to my grandmother they were always dressed that way. Here, two nameless, but pretty ladies.

The end of the album was dated 1914, so I assume this was somewhere at the beginning of the XXth century.

 This lady was called "La Chauvin". On the picture she had a tired, hard working face, and wiry arms, but she smiled a sort of forced smile. I am not sure if her hair was very blonde or white. Her uncanny resemblance to my great-grandmother apparently caused some people to suspect that she might simply have been her half sister.

Would this be the reason why the family kept her?

 I know nothing else of this mysterious woman but I felt drawn to the straight, tense silhouette kneeling in the mud by the river.








Same album -two nameless men guiding a mule. They looked so proud on the picture, I had to draw them.

More White Note.

Yup!