Sometimes in the summers of my life nowadays here in Amsterdam, selling my crazy artwork at the popular Anne Frank House, making new stuff everyday, keeping my production line in full swing, I miss the plain and simple doodles I like so much to do during my winter walks, my daily hikes during the wintery days here in good old Mokum, the doodles I liked to make when I was on one of my backback trips in my younger days, my wintery breaks from Amsterdam in the years before Corona befall the unsuspected world, in my beloved Thailand, sitting on the Pattaya Beach surrounded by these Ya-Ba addicted, beer and Yao Khao stuffed Hot Mommas of the local nightlife, undereducated rice farmer daughters from up north admiring my crazy doodles...(where are they know, those that are still alive, are they happy, are they doing well?. dreams aplenty still troubling my Gringo brain at nights)There was never any point in these doodles, never trying to make a statement, my words in the doodles as much unimportant as the lines of naked women, cartoons characters and all the other fucked-up imagery that came out of my fingers, my pens and markers, my aquarels and emotionally wrecked Dutch brain...
But, NO, wait...there always was and still is a good reason why i made and still make this stuff...BECAUSE I LIKE DOODLING...
Soon enough I will be back on the road to nowhere, to Las Palmas again, back to useless doodles and a bit of spanish Canary sun.
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