Once upon a time...

A few years back I participated in an art project and I got it in my silly little head to do a stop motion picture. Of course I didn't finish it, because I totally underestimated the work involved. But here is the video 'so far'.

Diana Ross 2.0

Oh my, my first Tango video, since I hope none of my relatives or friends read my blog anymore due to serious and outrageous neglect, I am 'confident' enough to post this. And not because of my Tango skills. But look at the hair! That is all I can see. I look like Diana Freakin' Ross. I love my hair, but is it really that big? It needs to have it's own show. 

Facebook happend

I haven't posted much the last few months. Let's say…none. It has one or maybe two specific reasons… One: I have emerged myself in the lovely fantasy of Facebook and two I have been writing a lot…in Dutch. I am combining the two, using Facebook as a mini blog. So that's not very good news for My Way to Rome.  And oh let's please not forget my total and utter addiction to Argentine Tango. In Dutch I appear to be very funny, so it’s very easy to see why I prefer Facebook (for now) over Blogger. I love all the likes and comments and likes. It is really just my ego having a field trip. But still, sometimes I remember and a bit of nostalgia fills me. My fingers suddenly hover over my keyboard and I start typing silly little notes like these. Don't forget, I won't.

Tango Embrace

Since May this year I have emerged myself with everything to do with Argentine Tango. I am in love with the movement of body and soul, the music that pierces through your heart and makes it stop and then beat faster. I never really dared to take photo's of this intimate interaction before...but this weekend I tried for the first time and I like it...

Memories of Lisboa (in Dutch)

De geur van zon op mijn huid vermengt met neerdwarrelende paarse bloesem, met een vleugje warme vanille die liefdevol wordt geroerd door een zacht, zingende keukenmeid die zoete, Fadoachtige slaapliedjes zingt. Jagend licht dat daalt en stijgt en zijn spotlicht richt op kastelen, graffiti en in elkaar verstrengelde geliefden op bankjes in parken waar sprookjes nog lijken te bestaan. En een wind die langs mijn haren strijkt en zucht… Lisboa.

New paths?

A friend said the weirdest thing to me last week. She said I talk as if I'm reading out loud from a romantic novel. You know, the ones where the women swoon, are stubborn and bonny and the men are hard and beastly and give smoldering looks that burn the other sex into willingly piles of fuming ash (scented not stirred). For an unromantic soul like myself that is quite the shocker. Who says that... and more importantly... should I take it as a compliment or a new career choice?

One of these days

Some days are better then others. This one has been one roller coaster.

Going from totally exited, happy to see people and learning new programs that thrill me to feeling totally overwhelmed, out of place, out of control and back to silly happy again. PMS who needs it anyway. Jeezzzzzzzzzz.

Little Dutch Poem

I love to take long, hot showers.

Random words gently gliding by, like little rivers of thought merging, dividing, and sliding down my skin. And then suddenly, after all these years... a little poem halts and stares. I jump and stumble to get away from my safe water world to sit down behind my desk and write swiftly, creating little splashes of ink. I'm thinking of a bigggg boatman, who promised to take me sailing. It is windy outside and I want to leave port.

't waait, 't zwaait,

't ruist, 't bruist,

mijn hart klopt hard,

mijn hart klopt diep,

van onder wel,

van boven niet...

Hello again...

Went to Amsterdam a while ago.
Shot these tourists from up up up close.
They never noticed, they were just captivated by their little camera screen and each other.
Wish I could feel that way...
When I look at my photo's, I just shrug and couldn't care less. Their closeness shoves my feelings of solitude right back in my face.

Don't know what's wrong with me lately.
For the last 2 weeks I have felt like crying big, heart wrenching sobs.
But instead I curl up and sleep 18 hours a day, barricading myself in my little home and feeling oh so sorry for myself.
There is no reason for me to feel this way. Nothing big has happened to me lately, except that 2 weeks ago I got sick and stopped running.
And it seems that something has caught up with me.
Like little creepy crawlers, Disappointment and Melancholy are here again, gnawing at my stupid heart and brain.

Maybe it's just that so many people close to me are not in a happy place right now. Maybe I feel scared for the world I live in every day... so much destruction, cruelty and stupidity. Maybe I long for a lover to share my little every day life with. Or maybe it's just that I don't feel happy with who I have become and where I am right now.
The feeling that I'm getting estranged from the me I used to be gets stronger every day.
Pretending to be someone I'm not and not liking the woman in the mirror.

Clueless who I want to be, desperately wanting to recover my passion in life.

Knowing that something has to change, now!

And secretly hoping that out of nowhere Prince Charming will appear to rescue me from this mess. So I don't have to be brave and blindly take the next step into the unknown.