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Wednesday, February 28, 2001 22:47 It came from the jungle If you ever heard me speak and know how my accent sounds like then you must see this short animation film (pointed to me by Inky-Binky a.k.a. the Sega monster). link | |
18:09 What a guest, the Benoit - over ten days at my place - minimally obtrusive - lovely late-night and early morning talks over coffee or beer - excellent, peaceful mood - gone yesterday - first to Paris - by now back to Montreal. link | |
Tuesday, February 27, 2001 10:43 What can't go on unmentioned is my very first experiment with 'online' dating. I'd been curious about it for a while but never really made any attempts - being more the in-the-flesh-chatting sort of guy, I kept choosing to meet people the classic way (in case you're asking yourself: I am in an open relationship). So. I did find an ok site and built myself a profile (pretty truthful to who I really am, I must say) and slowly got to exchange some interesting lines with a few people. Some ten days ago I got into this especially nice conversation and the thing led to an appointment. It was Sunday night and we agreed to meet in a bar we both were familiar with. We had exchanged pictures. It didn't really feel like a 100% blind date. Fine. I arrived at the appointed time and looked around; no sign of the guy. I waited some fifteen minutes or what seemed like fifteen minutes. I thought of a list of things to talk about, in case a more natural conversation failed to happen. I was a bit nervous: I realized I couldn't remember his name anymore (uh-oh). I reviewed the little information I had. Then, thinking we could both be waiting on different sides of the place, I went around the bar, looking half-discreetly at all the faces and trying to figure out which would match the picture / the attitude of the one I was supposed to meet. I go often to that place, and I am sort of used to having small talk with people I never met before. So why did this time feel so different? There he was. On the other side of the bar like I suspected. My look got back a big open smile, a smile just like the one I had seen in his pictures. I also smiled because I liked what I saw. I offered a beer, he said surewhynot, we toasted and the conversation was intense and very interesting. Quite interesting, I thought, how this feels like a game; we are both aware of the rules, there's no need to mention them. But I did: after some - what? ten, fifteen minutes, half and hour? - of conversation I said something about his picture. 'What picture?' 'The one you sent me. The shower picture.' 'I never sent you any picture.' So in a second and without much more explanation it became clear to both of us that there was a mistake and that he was not the person I was supposed to meet. We both thought it was funny and went on talking about whatever we were talking before and all in all it was a very pleasant evening. See? (later on, back online, I again contacted the first guy who happily was also able to see the humour of the situation. Apparently he was there for the appointment (like he should) and thought I had stood him up; he then ended up spending the evening talking with some old friends and having a very good time as well. link | |
Thursday, February 22, 2001 14:15 BODY IS BACK! and that means a visit to the doctor for a full check-up, a visit to the (new!) dentist, almost regular swimming, sauna and its cold showers and dompelbadden. After months of how-low-can-you-go eating habits there's this fresh ressurection of the vehicle, it, this one I got to carry me around this one time. Got to love it, and I do. Meanwhile Back in London Paul A. reports a similar wake-up. Let's wish luck to us both in our attempts. link | |
Sunday, February 18, 2001 02:36 - long relevant phone call to London - met Carien and Hein in front of my house - together we had several coffees at 't Loostje - then we moved on to the Oude Braak for a lego session and some browsing - very pleasant - then some posting - then some noodles by myself while reading a choice of dialogs selected by the ultimate real life search engine for my next assignment in Arnhem - then a movie with Stefan: Red Planet - then a beer or five at De Engelse Reet over tomorrow morning: North by Northwest. link | |
02:30 Well, maybe you were just sleeping, or awake but without paying any attention. These things were aways there, waiting to be noticed. And that is a fact. link | |
Saturday, February 17, 2001 19:01 Confidential to Martin Kurylowicz: I In 1998 I worked on a video project at the World Expo in Lisboa with Joost Verhaak (my studio partner at the time) Two of the many other people working on that project were Hans Kerkhof and Stanja van Mierlo We communicated though headsets and there was a lot of noise and interference We were all day long shouting in the microphones things like "hoor je mij, Stanja?", "hoor je mij, Hans?" ("can you hear me?") II I barely ever met any of these people since then III Last Tuesday I was on the train on my way back from Arnhem where I teach audio-visual design at the art academy Joost called me on my mobile phone. It was very noisy and the train was packed. He couldn't hear me very well. I then said "hoor je mij, Joost?" He said "huh?" I said, louder, too loud maybe: "Hoor je mij, Stanja van Mierlo"? (For old times sake) IV I don't know what he replied or if he understood the joke But to our suprise Next to me, standing in the aisle, was Stanja van Mierlo With a puzzled look on her face link | |
18:37 - who profits from all this judgement - who needs all this judgement and for what purpose - these finer oils and spices, these obscure rare specimens - can't stop noticing, this decadence - free me from the very good selection - I want no selection - I want inclusion and a variety of qualities, of all natures - a group of unmeasurable size - unspottable - that's fine - thank you link | |
Thursday, February 15, 2001 00:26 Yesterday: remember: the Stanja van Mierlo coincidence on the train back from Arnhem. link | |
Wednesday, February 14, 2001 08:28 I was walking down the street, a visitor in some new city. I had someone with me, walking one step behind so I couldn't tell who it was. We saw a restaurant, decideed to enter. There was a split entrance, and this was supposed to be fun. Famous guests had to go to the left, others to the right. Both ways led to staircases going down where it was pitch black. All silent, too silent for a restaurant maybe, we wonder how the two crowds will be relating to each other downstairs. Something tells us that something here is either sinister or kinky or both. Let's go down the regular entrance. Oh it's really dark. I am still in front, my companion following me without a word (there was never a word until now). While descending we bump (boo!) on a creepy man, the maitre. He has a moustache that's curly at both ends. He explains how everything works, we feel suspicious, the place must be really empty, something smells like trouble. Let's go back and try it some other time. link | |
Tuesday, February 13, 2001 10:20 Sonho vago Sonhei mas não me lembro direito. Tinha a Ellen, com certeza, e a gente conversava muito, um dos assuntos sendo a Elaine - que segundo o sonho estava doente mas não queria admitir. Acordei e recebi um e-mail da Renata. link | |
08:39 Today: blue balls Someone is trying to help you feel better after you've done questionable things to your dear ones. (via our ballsy friends dagmar&chili). link | |
Monday, February 12, 2001 08:34 >> just now I had a dream and in the dream I knew I had to get up soon and so wouldn't have time for the full dream - I then 'press' >> and actually see everything happening ultra fast. I have no idea what was going on though, except that it involved a movie box office and buying tickets for three (I think the two others could have been PP and a tiny foreign girl I had never met before). link | |
Sunday, February 11, 2001 14:50 This Weekend-like weekend includes: - two movie sessions: O Brother Where Art Thou and Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, one after the other on a rainy Friday night - a breakfast at the Café de Jaren with Jouke and Gabrielle to discuss the upcoming Hogeschool Brabant project (and more) - a quick stop at Office Center to replenish Richard's paper stocks - one long walk around the center of Amsterdam to photograph details of the renovation works at the Warmoesstraat, Dam Square and Koningsplein - one beer stop at the musicless Café De Engelse Reet - a quick ckeck at the new, tiny easyEverything shop (at the Damrak) - now with a webcam and a internet-phone per computer - one interrupted late-afternoon nap - a dinner with Yves and Pierre who drove from Paris to Leiden to visit an exhibition of Ancient Egyptian art at the Rijksmuseum van Oudheden, and stayed the night at our place. - a late Sunday breakfast (at home, which for me is a very rare thing) - one hour of nude swimming at the Zuiderbad, the municipal swimming pool next to the Rijksmuseum, finally reopened after a year of renovations - five design hours - several liters of Spa Marie-Henriette - a cheese-alfalfa sandwich and bed. link | |
12:58 Now The local version of the alternative music channel The Box is playing D-12 (featuring Eminem)'s "Shit on you" (?!?): I'll shit on you / Your life / Your wife / Your kids / Your car / I'll shit on you / Your house / Your spouse / Your rings / Your things Later At 14.00 the Dutch Buddhist Broadcast Foundation will air their second programme, a lecture by HH the Dalai Lama on the Four Noble Truths. link | |
Friday, February 09, 2001 17:54 Leucadendron 'Safari sunset' Since yesterday I have been corresponding with a very kind Miss I.D. Manders from South Africa who decided to help me identify the flower/plant I mention on my last post. Here's some of what she found out (thanks, Inge!): Hi Rog.......found your plant ( I think). It as I thought is a plant found in the Cape, a member of an enormous collection called Cape Fynbos and is a member of the Leucadendron sub- family.   I know your picture looks slightly different, bit I think it was picked before the leaves changed colour. Hope this helps you. With kind regards Inge link | |
11:09 Meanwhile I feel like a NKOTB as I join a new neighbourhood and find myself listening more than talking. For a bit. After all everyone knows I am a shy guy. Right? Strange redhead season. Since a week or so I notice redhead people everywhere (especially men, for some reason). In movies, on the train back from Arnhem, at the gym. It's not any sort of particular aesthetic apreciation, I just notice them. It feels weird. What sort of information is there to be noticed, I start asking myself. It's a very subtle thing, actually, and writing about it gives it a bit too much importance. Two days ago I woke up to a 50 min. phone call from my best, inseparable high-school friend who is now living in Jordan. We hadn't talked or written in a very long time and it was nice to catch up. Life took us very different directions. He's been working for Citibank almost all his adult life, first back in Brasil, then in Kazakhstan and now in Jordan. A strange life indeed. link | |
09:59 Somewhere else Someone is giving advice to a mystery woman: For some reason everyone wants everyone to be you. If I were you (and I am), I'd go with it.The Molenpad apartment My search (see Tuesday entry) was efficient enough and late in the afternoon I got to visit one apartment. It was pretty interesting and covered most of my criteria pretty well. The place had good location and was on a high floor, with big windows and a nice view to an inside court, a mezzanine meant as a bedroom, huge storage space and a roomy kitchen. Plus some sort of (shared) roof terrace. And a landlord that seemed to be a nice and trustworthy man. Problem #1: a bit too expensive; Problem #2: shower and toilet occupied the same 1x1m space and were a wreck; Problem#3: available for only six months. Particularities: the building was very nice with stairs that were actually designed for human feet, unlike most ultra-steep Amsterdam staircases. A bit of an unusual place to call home though, the several floors being mostly occupied by physioterapists and yoga teachers and other therapists of many sorts, which could be really interesting if the whole place didn't vaguely smell like a hospital. Oh, and if I lived there I would have to go through someone's waiting room to get to my kitchen. So I'll go on looking. link | |
Saturday, February 03, 2001 23:24 Bed - bathroom - view Looking back to three hotel rooms in Rotterdam. link | |
12:39 Remember to watch Memento, the film by Christopher Nolan about a man who, after an accident, becomes unable to acquire new memories. His pockets full of polaroids and little notes to remind him of who is who and what is what. Also remember that a Seinfeld episode ("The betrayal", Nov 1997) was scripted in a similar way (but much less effectively). Can't tell you any more without spoiling your fun. link | |
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