Three. Create.

Please read this text like you would watch a dance where the end and beginning don’t exist, just the dancer’s or dancers’ continuous alignment with music only for the sake of experiencing the present moment as self-forgetfully as possible. Thus, like the dance, this text has a beginning and an end, but it will not offer any truths about how to best experience this life. I will merely try to use writing as a different way of dancing, because I feel writing is my most naturally occurring form of self-forgetful self-expression.

Well Dan

I had my last day of work on the island of Schiermonnikoog on a Wednesday. The days before this last day were like any other day of work during these last two years – just waiting for the day to arrive at its end. On many occasions I had thought how happy I would be when I finally walk out of that kitchen for the last time. Not that the job would be that awful. Not to mention the people – we had great fun. It’s just that my job robbed me of my weekends. Sure, I could take a day off during the week, or half a day, but there were few moments where I really felt like having a day off unless I had planned myself a proper vacation. A trip out of town, or country, or to Estonia. But otherwise, when I’d take a day off in the middle of the week on maybe a Thursday, then there would still be this buzz in the world around me that didn’t allow me to feel relaxed to the max. Although I did learn how to become more relaxed in general. But now - after this long intro to my last day at work - I can say that the moment when one of the chefs came into the kitchen and signed that I am now finished… It was just amazingly weird. “Oh” and “wow” were the only words coming into my mind. And then “I DID IT! I fucking did it!”. God, that relief. Every commitment in the Netherlands, whether university- or work-related, was finished for me at that very moment.

Beach on Schiermonnikoog

In the evening we went to have food in the hotel where we work. I worked. Working in the kitchen and preparing appetizers or desserts one after the other got me thinking about why would people like the place that much. I didn’t find the food that amazing, rather quite simple. Don’t get me wrong, it took me a while to feel competent around the kitchen, and the food was good, just not extremely amazing. And extremely amazed is what our clients seemed to be. Now, eating in the restaurant of the hotel for the first time myself I finally realized that the atmosphere is just amazing! The old wooden furniture. The waiters and waitresses all in suits. The big windows on one side of the dining hall. The grand piano in the hall. And the kitchen kept on sending us small extras in the middle of our courses. Even the simple things that I normally prepare myself tasted so much better (or I’ve just been a shitty cook the whole time). The meal was finished off with a grand dessert, which is something we always prepare if there’s someone in the restaurant for a special occasion like a birthday, or anniversary, or having the last day of work in Hotel van der Werff. I felt so grateful for this absolutely beautiful dinner.

Grand dessert

We finished off the night at Jelle’s place with a bunch of people, just chilling and having some drinks. Quite a few people passed through the place, but in the end it was just me, Jelle and Paul. Us three chilled together almost every evening when I was on the island for work. Talking, listening to music, watching YouTube videos (the Internet is a crazy thing), watching TV shows, and just relaxing in general. These moments with them made my weekends at work on Schiermonnikoog.

I left early on the next day. The day consisted of finishing up my things at my Groningen home and then heading to meet up with good friends who were still in Groningen. Another relaxed evening among the many we had had during the time in Groningen. Some good food, some good music, some good smiles, some good talks. Moreover, France defeated Germany in football that night which was great for the 3 out of ~10 people who were not German. And then some people started leaving. So came the goodbyes. The beautiful words and thank yous and strong hugs. The “see you soon”. The love. These people were an inspiration for me during these three years. They still are. Their diverse life stories. Their travel experiences. Their ideals! Their stumbles on the path of trying help with creating a better world, while accepting the beauty of the world just the way it is. I took a lot with me from them. I can only hope I could offer something back. The beautiful words and thank yous and strong hugs tell me I did.

Love you, friends.

Amsterdam

I stayed at Marcel’s place that night. The next day we went to Amsterdam. We met up with Alena at the train station and started heading towards the crazy city together with the three of us. They didn’t really know each other well beforehand, but both being open and relaxed people meant that we all just started getting along nicely from the very beginning of the day. Me and Marcel had to rush to make it on the right train, and were not able to have food before the ride because of that. We had to wait for a while before the Snackman on the train finally appeared to save our growling stomachs.
“Hey, what can I offer you? Chocolate bars, candy, waffels?”
“Do you have anything salty as well?”
“Just these…”
*ends sentence doubtfully and points at a bag of nuts*
“You mean DEEEZ NUTS?”
We all laughed and he said:
“I wanted to make that joke too, but I wasn’t sure if it’s appropriate.”

Amsterdam vibes

In Amsterdam we first decided that we have to resist our slight sleepiness with some coffee and tea and stuff. Buzzingly energized, we wondered to the Foam museum where they exhibited the photography of the legendary Helmut Newton. Him being legendary I found out the moment we entered, because the exhibition's description said so. Otherwise it was Alena’s wish to go there. A great wish, I must say, for it was truly inspiring. Each room had a little background story to why the pictures were done the way they were. Like the pictures of models with their faces outside of the borders of the pictures, which I found very dehumanizing at first, but then could read how the aim was to focus only on the art of clothing since someone’s face grabs people’s attention almost automatically most of the time. I found myself thinking how I want to invest more time into creating things.

Like using words for dancing maybe?

Helmut Newton

create, create, create
before it’s too late

better late than never
better any time than no creation ever

visualise, but forget the outcome
the destination can be great, the journey comes next to none

blood, sweat, and tears
creating will take your fears

create, create, create
before it’s too late

(to be continued)