Broomsticks & Bounty's

Daisy Meadows has one sister, called Rosie. Rosie is 5 years older then Daisy. When they were young, they played together with dolls, or wandered around in the forests and fields around their house. They often visit their grandfather, who treated them with Bounty's and other candies. He died when Daisy was ten years old. Cancer.
 When Rosie became 16 years old, she painted her hairs black and told her younger sister she did Wicca. Daisy wanted to know everything about it, but Rosie thought she was too young to get involved in witchcraft or philosophy. Behind the back of her sister, and also her parents, Daisy sneaked in her sister's room, when she was not home, and read her books, and even her diary, which Rosie called her "book of shadows". 

Little Daisy learnt that Wicca is one of the most important maybe one of the most famous- nature relgions which still happens in these centuries. Maybe it is more than a religion. It is also a philosophy, a way of living. It is about spirituality, but also about ecology. Nature, growth, harmony, strength, the connection with Mother Earth... is all celebrated by the new witches of this time. Maybe it is also a bit feminist. Daisy learnt about the origins. She learnt about the three forms of the Godess: the Virgin or Maid, the Mother, and the Crone, each symbolizing a separate stage in the female life cycle or the wheel of the Moon. 

There are 8 sabbats, or feasts. One of the most famous is Samhain, or better known as Halloween. During this night of the year, the veil between our world and the empire of the dead is the most thin. It is also the New Year, the feast of endings and beginnings, a time to stop mourning, and to forget bad memories, and keep the memories which make you stronger. The new year starts with the night, with the darkness. In ancient times, people counted winters and nights instead of days and summers, because in dark times you can grow the most, they believe.

Witches put extra plates on the table, during the dinner, with their favorite meal, and placed candles at the windows, so they beloved dead ones could find back their way home. They were not afraid for death. 

Also Rosie placed candles in front of the windows. Daisy asked her why, and after a small pauze, Daisy explained that maybe their grandfather would return.
"We need to get him back," she said.
"Is that why you became a witch... to get him back alive?" little Daisy asked. "Is that not dark magic?"
"No, of course not," Rosie said. "Will you help me?"

That evening Daisy put some bounty's on the window sill. She was disappointed when she found it back the next morning. 

Starry Sky

What I like about arriving HOME since a couple of months, 
is the STARRY SKY (sometimes). 
I saw a lot of skies, with more stars, and in whole the world, 
still... I love my own piece of starry sky the most.

it relaxes me every evening again, certainly when I came from work, by bicycle,
and are surrounded by the nurturing darkness. 

The future of Pakistan

Yesterday evening I attended a lecture, organized by MO*, about the future of Pakistan. They invited the journalist Omar Waraich, who writes for TIME and The Indepedent, and asked Shada Islam (journalist, active for Friends of Europe, and Dawn), Bruno de Cordier (from University of Ghent) and Khalid Hameed Farooqi (head department Brussels of GEO-tv, biggest tv channel in Pakistan) to join the panel afterwards. What was I looking for there? In Prague, I made two friends from Pakistan. Friendship brings you closer to the world. You become more involved, and even stop zapping the television if you catch a glimpse of a country where one your friends live, because you... just care. 

source: Lonely Planet

 "The most dangerous country"
 The associations are kind of known. Terrorism. Taliban. Extremism. Poverty. Neighbors of Afghanistan. Troubles in Kashmir. Darkness.  Maybe the most dangerous country in the world.

More than 180 millions of people are living in this country, which has the seize of 26 times Belgium, or 3 quarters of Europe. This year was the start of new transitions, for Pakistan, but also for the region (India, Afghanistan... you know, this region), because there were elections. The journalist Waraich gave us hope for a better future, where politics, now only positioned by millionaires, will be replaced by the urban middle class, and where the relationship with India can be improved. He started his lecture with references to the book "Descent into Chaos", which was later followed by "Pakistan on the Brink", and added if we come from chaos to already the edge, it means Pakistan is already heading a good way. He said that even when Pakistan didn't exist people believed it will not stay long. But it will be a long way, he said, because there are still big challenges like the intern terrorism. Every day there is a terrorist attack. You've also the increase of influence of wahhabisme, extreme conservative religious fundamentalists (yes, all the words which scare a lot of people) Sunni's who want to return back to the source of the Qu'ran. 

But... 

Let us first clarify that Pakistan is a country of extremes. It is also an extreme big country. Someone said that in Pakistan you can find parts which will remind you to Africa's slums, while others have French restaurants, art galleries, libraries... like in Brussels. Pakistan cannot be described in one a few associations. It is just too diverse for it, like you also cannot describe Europe in just a few words. Even for tiny tiny tiny Belgium I don't know any associations. 

The biggest hope, they all agree, is the growth of the middle class and civil society. Civil society, de Cordier clarified, is just more than only what Westerners understand as civil society, but also religious groups for example. And don't forget globalization: social media, but also Pakistani going abroad, bring back something: money,  critical consciousness... Shada believes Pakistan can grow, like other Asian countries, if the Pakistani identify with their country, are not indifferent and intolerant, and start paying taxes, so important things like education can be paid...

Education for girls
Yes, education. Maybe some of you heard about Malala Yousafzai, the Pakistani girl, who came up for education for girls, after she is tortured, and speaks worldwide. 

If I remember the numbers very well, only 12% of the girls go to school. Shada emphasized a couple of times that if women in Asia (and also in Africa, Middle East...) not get empowered by education and more rights there is no growth possible for these regions. 

Since a year I think to become a teacher, or a coach, and besides my passion of film making, also educate young girls in nature, geography, the world, even their body... because helping to grow people feels more satisfying. I already figured out I want to use stories, and films, to educate people to make them more critical, but I also feel the urge to finally go back to university, and start my masters in geography, with a specialization in education. I think geography, and nature, can help so many girls, because understanding the environment also helps to understand yourself, because you start to read the patterns, and the motives in the world, and you accept yourself, because you're not alone, as part of the world. I am a bit ecofeminist, trying to help women and nature, but it is necessary. 

After the lecture, waiting for my train back home, I had a clear vision. I don't know if I will teach children in Pakistan, but I feel more and more I want to teach girls, because I can leave the world as a better place this way. Maybe in Nepal. Or Swaziland. Bolivia? Or even in Belgium. We'll see. 

It is a seed in me, planted a time ago, and growing and growing, and it becomes stronger. 

Like Pakistan. There are seeds. They only need to grow, before the poison of extremism and terror takes over all the land. But I believe...

sources: my own notes, corrected by what I read in the article in MO*, by Gie Goris (in Dutch)

The Secret of Sinterklaas

These days one of Belgium's most (fictional) figures is enduring a crisis. According to the UN, this custom of the Netherlands and Belgium is racist, because the servant of the old white man, the Dutch version of Santa Claus, has a black servant. Human Rights bodies say this custom is like promoting slavery. (Source: Telegraph) 

A very old picture of me and the holy man

As a Belgian person I have to give my story about Sinterklaas. This figure is an important man in the life of many children. Every morning of 6th of December (in Netherlands: 5th of December) until I was 11 years old, I woke up very excited, and ran downstairs to see the presents the holy man left behind, in change for the sugar, carrots and drawing I left in my shoe the evening before. We believed he came from Spain, by boat, and in Antwerp, every year, there is a big celebration in November, where Sinterklaas and all his servants arrive in the port. There are dozens of candies and oranges. He has a big book, which he brought to all big shopping malls, club parties, and read who was good, and who was bad. I am not good in remembering lyrics, but as child, and still, 14 years later, I can sing all the songs about this man, his boat and home country.

Of course there were the black servants. We called them "Zwarte Piet", which you can translate as "Black Pete". I was scared for them, because all "bad children" disappeared in their bags. I was a good child, but my younger brother and I had often small fights (as many brothers and sisters do), so my small child heart was always drumming against my chest, when Sinterklaas read all the names of the good kids. You never know.

For me, this whole custom has nothing to do with racism. Interested in mythology and witchcraft as teenager, I looked up the story behind Sinterklaas, and read a lot about his origins. The first thing I learnt, is not about his origins, but about his offspring: the American Santa Claus is a derivation of Sinterklaas. The Dutch brought their custom to New Amsterdam, future New York, and later Coca Cola used this figure to promote their drinks.

Ice berg model of culture, Hall (1976)

Sinterklaas itself comes from the old shamans, roles in society which existed before Christianity entered Western-Europe. Shamans were the mysterious figures, who were in touch with nature, and cured people. Sinterklaas is some old, dark figure, from ancient dark times. You can compare him with Pan, the Greek god with the horns. The Church tried to ban all pagan elements from society in the Medieval Times, so they "christianized" everything. They split the celebration of the shaman, in two figures: his bright, sacred side became a saint from Spain, and his dark, nature, passionated side became the dark Black Pete.
Sinterklaas is white, Black Pete is black. They cannot exist without each other, like yin cannot exist without yang. For me, they represent control and impulsive nature of people

Before you ban culture, or habits, because in the surface they look bad, you've to dive beneath the surface of the iceberg. Culture is like an iceberg, like Professor Hall described in his model. We are not racist. Black has many meanings. It also means passion, darkness, nature, the shadows of our soul...  Black Pete takes "bad chidlren" with them, but maybe "bad children" are more connected with nature than most children are. In these songs, bad is a word defined by the Church. Maybe my heart was not drumming so hard, because it was scared, but because it was excited to learn more what is hidden in the bag of Black Pete.
Like Alice fell in the rabbit hole.

I also wrote an article for EGEA about the Ice Berg Analogy of EGEA, which you can read here (2012):  
Beneath the Surface of the Iceberg

Hope

Since a couple of days I am addicted. This is the newest song stuck in my mind. Also the music video is amazing. The song is about hope, but the images, about young people stuck in their French rural life, is everything about hope. That makes the imagery so strong. Someone told me the best voice-overs in a film are the ones which tell about something you don't see in the images, because that gives it a double layer, a function in the storytelling.

My friend, who is making a short in Prague, I produced in the beginning of the project, shared this movie some weeks ago, and he has also the same theme of coming to age in a difficult world, where there is not really hope for a better future.

Last weeks, when I was not working for the Film Fest Gent, I directed, produced and co-edited a music video for the competition of GeneroTV and Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros. Visual Okapi made  a music video, called "better days", where an old lady escaping her house in two different meanings of the word, looking for, or going back, to better days. I connect childhood in this project with fantasy, colors and joy. It has a sad part, namely that some things of these better days get lost, when you become old...  Still, a wise man said that who wants to improve, is declared very often crazy. And maybe we all need a bit craziness to find hope for a better future.

http://genero.tv/watch-video/36940

End of the Cinema? - pt2

On the other side, money gives us also movies like Cuaron's "Gravity". I am absolute fan of this master. Y tu mama tambien, Children of Men, the best Harry Potter of the whole series, and now this... Cuaron, you've got me. Also during the FFG (film fest Gent) we were able to see this movie.

I don't have to explain the story of this movie. I just can say everything is perfect. The story, the acting performances, the sound design, the emotions, the tension created by the amazing cinematography...
The director thought about the metaphors (the first shot representing safety reminds me to an embryo in a womb), as you can see in this picture:

Also the whole struggle of the main character, is not about struggle against getting lost, or to die, in space, but also about imploding, getting lost in sadness. I love all the hidden layers in this story, so it is more than just action and tension. I also liked the fact the lead was a woman. This becomes a trend to cast more female heroes, which I like a lot. It breaks stereotypes about women in films, always in shadows of their "knights". The character has really nice layers, and I am very glad with the portrayal and performance by Sandra Bullock.

I saw this movie also during the FFG. Probably this movie can survive, and can get attention, without help of any film festival. Still, why are film festivals so important, and why do directors love to be opening or closing films for (big) film festivals?

Promotion.

Exposure gives you chances to create more.

It also gives money.

Also, during my internship, I realized (again) that culture needs money. For centuries, artists get funded. The painter Rubens could only earn money, coz the Church and other rich people paid for his paintings. The Belgian cinema is becoming big, but every movie is funded by the government. Money is still a factor. Even in a film festival, there is a lot of money involved, mostly from sponsors. The winners of film festivals get money to distribute their movies in cinemas, and so their work got promoted... and so they got more chances to keep making movies...

In this world, I feel it becomes more important how many youtube, facebook... likes you have than how many tickets you sold. Look at music videos. You don't earn money if 10 millions of people see your movie. You get money paid in advance... but there is a difference between 1 million or 10 million viewers. You get the attention of sponsors...

(be continued)

End of the Cinema? - pt1

One of the big guests of the Film Fest is Paul Schrader (he wrote Taxi Driver, Raging Bull...  and directed American Gigolo) to present his newest movie "the Canyons". In the daily e-letter I read that he said that the cinema we know today will end soon. Big cinema's are not so successful anymore (a lot of people watch films on-line, you know, all these troubles), many directors get less money than normal... so crowdfunding and indiefilms are growing in importance. In his speech, or in another speech I read, the importance of film festivals is emphasized to bring more movies in the eye of the greater public.  

Another film I saw -yesterday- has also not so big budget.

"Ain't them Bodies Saints" is a special title. During the director's talk, David Lowery explained he heard his friend performing a typical American folk song, and this was a line. He didn't remember the song, or even don't know he remembered the line very well, but this line got stuck, and became the title of his feature movie. He explained us that he wants his audience to experience this film as a song, and I think he succeeded. This was a picturesque visual poem about love, motherhood and bandits. It is also not made with a lot of money (according to Hollywood standards), but it moves the soul.

stilt from the poster of "Ain't them Bodies Saints" (movie by David Lowery)

In this movie, Ruth (Mara Rooney) and Bob (Casey Affleck, yes, brother of...)  are two young beautiful bandits, who get caught. During the pursuit by the police, Ruth shot a cop, but Bob takes the responsibality and ends up in prison. In the meantime, Bob's father, but also the cop who was shot, take care of the pregnant Ruth...

The pace is dreamy in the beginning, but the end is filled with more action. The landscapes of Texas are beautiful, made even more timeless with the lens flare and the many backlight shots. The relationship between Ruth and Bob is well written: there are only several scenes where both actors are present, but still the whole chemistry is present in the whole movie.

The persons next to me, didn't like the movie. "It was boring". I think it is beautiful, with nice winks to "There will be Blood" by Paul Thomas Anderson. The style also reminds me to Terrence Malick.

This movie is so pure, and this is made without budget. It ends up in film festivals, and I am grateful I had to chance to spend this time to this movie. For me, this is an example of the future of cinema.
Not driven by money, but driven by passion.
 In this world, everyone can become a photographer or cinematographer: youtube can be a better professor than many universities. You pay more money for the paper called diploma than for the studies. Money is not anymore the most important factor. You can do some crowdfunding, find creative solutions to avoid big costs... It is more a matter of time, passion and yes, maybe talent, than knowing the right people. I feel. Everyone can become a film maker, yes, in this social media world, but maybe it is good that every person can visualize their dreams.

You know, David Lowery, the director of "aint them bodies saints", used his money normally for expensive college to pay his own editing and camera tools. Maybe we should invest our money in passion, and not in capitalism?

Borders & Elektric shocks

Several years ago, I wanted to participate in an experiment of the university; you got paid very royal for some hours. There were electric shocks involved. Before they could start the experiment, they had to determine my pain treshold. I was too stubborn, maybe too unsure, to know when to say stop, so I let them raise the treshold until I fainted.

Today I told someone about this memory, and then I wondered... how far do you go if you don't know any borders? Until you get lost? Until it is too late? Or is there a pulling factor which has an end?

I have been on the other side of the world, at Cape Reinga in New Zealand. It is a cliff at the coming together of two oceans: according to the Maori legend a male and a female ocean. They call this place the womb of the world; where souls are born, and are also return. Yes, another cycle.

Then I wonder...

If we don't know any borders, do we just walk in cycles?

The Strange Colors of the Tears of your Body (film)

The 40^th Film festival of Ghent started today their 5^th day. Although I shared some little beautiful moments and very small conversations even with some Oscar winners (mostly about the dreadful Belgian weather, or about their country of origin), I feel I am running a marathon. Mental and physical. There is a lot of work behind the scenes, and it is interesting, but also exhausting.

In the last 5 days I had time (in the evening) to see two movies. Yesterday I saw the latest movie of Jeunet (director of Amélie Poulain), and also caught a glance from him. Several days ago, I was lucky to attend the Belgian premiere of the Walloon movie « 'étrange couleur des larmes de ton corps » from Hélène Cattet and Bruno Forzani.

Personally, I liked the movie. Sometimes you dislike a movie while watching, but the after effects can be really so interesting you start to like this movie more towards the end, and after, when you start to realize and understand scenes, shots, metaphors... you even like the movie. I also think that the movie will be even better when you see it a second, third... time because you'll link the motives with your interpretation much better.

This movie can be classified in the « giallo  genre ». It is not a film that every person will like. I think that 1% of the average cinema visitor will love this art full of horror and sex. 

Giallo cinema is erotic horror from Italy, very popular in the 70's, where elements
from crime thrillers and mystery are mixed in a very kitschy, baroque and bloody way. 

Yes, as in many giallo's, the film can be described as a dark dance between Eros (Love) and Tanathos (Death), with different motives, all referring to these two powers of life, and ending with a bright, contrasting white revelation of the core under all these layers. Some people think there is no meaning, just an close knit of beautiful images and horror. I saw this as a surreal movie ; like David Lynch movies, who belongs to the same blood family as this movie, there is some message or core hidden, sometimes very primal story, connected with themes that even prehistoric people knew.

If there is a story, it will start that an man comes back from a journey in his appartment from his house, and don't find his wife there. He starts a search in his house, and faces also the secrets of his neighbours and the house. Nightmares and reality got mixed up with each other in a visual interpretation of...

Ok, spoiler alert... of a young girl who lost her virginity. Or that is my interpretation. The motives of a knife between woman legs (shape of ovaria), the blood, the sex... it all seems connected. I am not sure if the young girl looses her virginiy ; it also can be the first time she gots her period. 

Still, I feel this is a story about a feminine theme  (don't forget one of the directors is also a woman; not that every movie by a female director is about feminity, but sometimes... it is...)

As in Mulholland Drive of David Lynch, I feel this movie happens in the head of a woman, who is physically not very present in the visuals, who experiences the powers of Eros and Tanathos. 

That's why the directors/writers used this genre, the editing technique with quick edits, very loud sound design and many extreme close-ups, to let us experience this transition as a nightmare ; a lot of passages are horrifying, certainly for young girls. I felt in a nightmare, but I enjoyed it, and not only because of the cinematography, but also because of the editing and the sound design.

In Flemish, I would call this movie « bloedmooi », which is translated as « blood beautiful ». Blood and sex are shown in a high stylized visual pearl, as a nightmare of a young girl experiencing death and love for the first time, and for sure not for the last time. Love and death, beginnings and endings... are part of life, not opposites of life...  certainly not death and horror. 

How I want to be

Since last Sunday I live in Gand, to work for the Film Fest. 

My father arranged a home for me, 15minutes by bicycle from my the office of the Film Fest. The 66 year old lady lives in a very cosy apartment, and has kind of the same decoration I have in my house. Colorful walls, decorated with souvenirs from whole the world, like paintings from Nepal and water bags from Egypt. Cupboards full of books about traveling, spirituality and romans. The house has a nice smell of warmt and hospitality. She is such an interesting person. She volunteers, travels, and hikes a lot. She hiked from Belgium to Santiago de Compostella some years ago, and even reached heights of 6000 meters height, with an age counting more than 60 winters… She is very simple in her way, totally no materialist, but saves money for journeys. She is not stressed, and relaxed, and that is why she looks so strong. She is in fact how I hope to be, when i am 60 years old. 

I am so grateful to have her in my life, and share some relaxing moments, tea and good conversations in the early morning and late evening. 

Silence... the Sound of my Romance

Yesterday morning I stood in the train station of Antwerp, waiting for my small journey to Gand, where I work for the Film Festival. (Yes, we also start to work in the weekend, because it starts next week.) 
It was so loud. The machines were so loud. People talk so loud as possible so everyone can hear them. There are everywhere ads, with violent colors. People hurry, people think "me, me, me", when they want to embark on the train, and even I am part of this whole cacophony. I am working too hard, and I feel how days become grey (and not only because the winter in Belgium is going to start). Then I realized what I really want. 

I want to be a quiet person. Point. No exclamation point.

The days before my cousin and I talked about our destinations in life. She wants to become a stylist, helping people to look better, by letting them feel better, and to advise them how they can change their food, colors of clothes and life style to feel better. She is 30 years old. She is going to start a blog soon: Letstalkaboutyouand...
She works as a shop assistant manager, and is already in this sector for 10 years. She studied photography, food consultancy, colors & style... and now she has found the perfect study. This is in Amsterdam, and as some of you know, it is expensive to study in the Netherlands. While university and other higher education has fees between 0 and 600 euros each year, it is 5000 euros in the Netherlands. It is still not so much if you compare the prices in UK and USA, but I don't want to talk about their ideas about equal chances. Even 5000 euros is too much for most people in Belgium, which is not really ranked as a "poor country". My cousin is a single mom. Amsterdam is 2hours by train from Antwerp, but it is expensive for her to travel, and also pay day (and night) care for her baby.

I am 24, and I don't know exactly what I want. I love geography, nature, writing, traveling, meeting people, silences, gazing at world maps, eating strawberries with my hands, tasting salt on my lips, dreaming about guys, you know... I studied some things, but I don't know what I want to be. I have dreams, ideas, values... like breaking stereotypes, taking care of nature... but there is so much to do I got lost. I want to take care of the nature, but my 2-3 jobs take me away of really being the "green" person I want to be. After this internship, I decided to work already part-time, and do more sports, yoga, gardening, spending time in my house, decorating and cleaning it, reading books... to become more the person I want... In fact, I want to worship Silence. When Loudness dominates my working world, I want to enjoy the Silence, the sound of my new romance, who is now neglected.

But then... I wonder... why can I not also worship Silence in the working days? Why can I not be silent, when I work? People expect you to be competitive, assertive... but that creates only stress.  It would be interesting if skills like "active listening", not striving for visual cool, but for visual beauty in your work, to have breaks... That is my strongest challenge... to learn to say no, and find a balance, not in dividing my week in "silent" and "loud" days, but to divide each second in a silent and loud part.

I still don't know where and what I want to work, but I promised myself that at least one criteria for choosing a job will be that I can see chances to be more myself, to be more in balance in this job, and can find place for Silence in my job, even if this job does not get good paid as others, where you will be overwhelmed by sounds in all seizes and meanings.

The thing is... I should not be afraid to be poor... because that makes you really poor...

Lost in Prague, pt1

written in September 2012

The airport is a crossing of many travels. Every time again, I leave with mixed feelings about my travel. 

On one side, I am excited, curious and have that itchy freedom feeling, but on the other side… opening a new door means also to leave something behind. 

During the trip from my home in Antwerp to the airport I gazed to my father driving the car, the man who influences my whole past, presence and future, a determinant, a denominator in the fraction of my life. It was one of these moments that I got aware how import he is, and that he absolute loves me, because he always supports me, and even let me go… every time… to a new destination, or a new direction. He really believes that I can change the world, even if it is only my own world. My mother is the counter. She does not really understand why I am going to Prague, but she loves me, and accepts that I am a wanderer, a lost girl in this always changing world. It is weird that you can miss people, when they are still in the same car as you. 

Last Christmas, my friend Lizzie from USA, who shares my adventures of Nepal and Thailand, and who I probably going to mention a lot, gave this nostalgic phenomena a name: Saudade. She sent me this word as an early Christmas present. Saudade. I am not going to copy the meaning of this word from wikipedia. Look it up. Read the poems written about this word about emptiness, missing, longing, and desire, before you continue reading this book, because Saudade is one of the prime numbers that I try to divide in my fraction. 

When I am alone in the airport of Eindhoven, I buy a nice jade green notebook. After passing the customers, I am going to sit, open this book and start writing. I always intend to start to write every white surface I find. Writing is the breath in my blood, pushing me to live. During the writing, I smile, already forgetting the people and memories I leave behind, and thinking about the two dreams I am going to fulfill finally; living in Prague and studying film. 

in prague, (c) Nicolas Hen

Recently, I told someone that if I want something, I will grab it. People know -although they are always surprised how I find the money, the means and the courage- that I get what I want. Some weeks ago I walked for example 100kms in Belgium in less than 22 hours to fulfill a promise I did to my grandfather when I was 8 years old. Later I will talk back about my grandfather. He is another prime number in the fraction. 

By the way, I am 23 years old, almost 24 years old. I did quite a lot in my life, and visited a lot of places in whole of the world, and people are always surprised how I can creating more plans and dreams, but I think that the game of life is keeping striving for more and other things. One of my favorite philosophers is Socrates, and his wisdom that we know only thing, and that is that we know anything, keeps me and other inspired people looking for more, in the hope that one day we find the absolute truth. 

You will notice that I am never satisfied, one of the characteristics that every artist -painters, poets, writers, filmmakers, potters…- need to have, because otherwise I don’t call them a artist, but just a craftsman. Artists are like gold diggers; we dig and dig in the subconscious world of ourselves, and others, find sometimes a nice treasure, but we keep digging for el dorado. We have to be lost. 

When I traveled for 8 months on my own around the world, I already embraced the life of a wanderer, making art, drinking wine, philosophing about life, exploring, inspiring and getting inspired, experimenting… all in the purpose of trying to find a way to leave the world a better place when I die. 

In Prague, I will be, want to become even more the artist, the woman, the bohemian I want to be, and getting more lost.

It is time to embark on this journey. The gate is open... 

Everything...

Christians value love, hindoes trust and muslims brotherhood.

I want to value all three of them.

Can I not be 1/3 Christian, 1/3 Hindoe and 1/3 muslim ? 

"Time Standing Still"
(c) Benjamin I. Bargaard
he is a good friend from Norway

Machu Picchu

Immortality is hidden in every corner. When Fiona and Niall entered Machu Picchu, they felt they were in another world, far far away from any reality. They felt like nymphs wandering around between the old ruins, lying hand in hand on the grass, touching old stones, discovering mythical animals...

But nothing is forever. He was from Australia, she was from England.

They seperated.

Still, even their love faded away with every day they didn't see each other, the friendship remained. And the promise. Almost two years they planned to travel together, and this time they would visit another world wonder : Taj Mahal.

They would hike together, as these days in Peru, in Nepal. Fiona's friend could arrange a very cheap hike, so she told Niall in a mail about it, and he asked for more details. He ended the mail with many hugs. He was already going to the North of India, several weeks before she should leave, with his best friend, but he would wait for her in the airport.

She sent him the details of the hike, and waited for the mail. She smiled, remembering him climbing rocks, for the adrenaline, but also meditating to become one with the landscape . He took pictures of a story he didn't understand. He took « Frames », in which different landscape elements like branches, stone pillars... were a frame. They talked so much, about love, death, pain, parents, future, and their countries and it's strange habits.

A memory popped in her head, where they found a whole carpet of red butterflies on the earth. She reached her hand to a butterfly, who flied up, and -to their surprise- landed on her ring finger. He took a picture, and add that Mother Nature is the biggest witch he knew.

According to Fiona, Niall loved kicks, so he could feel alive . He was the kind of guy who spend money in skydiving, bungyjumping... he was so afraid for the rat race. He was like a tragic hero, she felt, from the Ancient- Greek myths. He was looking for immortality...

In their last evening they had danced the night away in Cusco. She still could feel every emotion of that night : joy, pleasure, fear, anger, sadness... every color of the spectrum.

A week passed, and he didn't answer. She did not panick. She would leave only in 3 weeks, and she was used to wait for answers from him. A second week passed. She got a bit irritated. She was a bit afraid that she would arrive alone in scary India. In the third week, she planned to write on his facebook wall a big subtle message to ask for attention. Suddenly she saw all the other messages beneath the one she was writing. First, she didn't realize... but then it appeared everywhere... RIP Niall.

It became totally white for her. No emotions.

She scrolled down and down. She couldn't believe this could have happened to him... to her ... This is a story for a cheesy Hollywood film, not for her life. She had so many thoughts, words, emotions, images, memories... crossing her mind that she never really got over it, and even years after, she can cry... in a sudden moment, when a memory touches her eyes.

India was not so crazy as she expected. Yes, she went. India, with all his colors and smells, was maybe the best cure for her. In the first week she saw how a car hit some Indian people, who flied in the ground, and landed on the earth. A whole red carpet spread the floor. She looked up, and the only thing her broken heart thought was that nothing is forever... After she visited the place where he died on an overdose, she went to an internet bar, and looked to the black screen. Since then, she does not like it anymore when lovers and boyfriends.. don't write back soon. She is afraid they will never write back...

Her lovers and (ex)boyfriends don't understand why she gets upset if people don't write back... because she doesn't talk about him. Talking about him makes him too mortal. She wants him just to be someone of her past... so she could continue to live...