getting older and older in my beloved Amsterdam, a city so much different from when I was yound and moved here from the deep south of Holland, a city I hardly recognise anymore, the new generation of people giving it its own twist, daily walks fulled with wonder about how life and my perceptions of it have changed, influenced by experiences, trails and jubilations, the bounty of any life...my sketchbooks still a prime aspect of my life, leaking pens and colored markers staining my belongings, the way life has stained my character and look on life...adios and goodbye to an adventurous backpack excistence and hello to a more luxurous way of holiday making...getting older I can say with fake pride, looking back on it all, I did it with my own creations, my handmade jewelery, my drawings and sketches, my paintings, all of it sold in te street, obscure bars in third world countries, while waiting for a flight at some international airport, always waiting for an opportunity presenting itself, another sale, the money less important than the sale itself...I am getting older, more philosofical but also more tranquil, getting older is not at all that bad as long as the health stays sane ..