Tres Animales, the silverback

                                                        Amsterdam,

Three animal studies I did last night during the comercial breaks of some boring movie which title I had for gotten by the time I woke up this morning...

The sketches were there to greet me when I woke up though, looking me straight in the eye while I tried to focus on the latest world happenings brought to me by the Metro free newspaper and a steaming hot coffee, lots of skimmed milk but suger free, just the way I like it, helping me to get my head straight and be ready to face the sh*t of this world...maybe a brand new day

Tres Animales, Indian Gaur

Tres Animales, the walrus

Typical Amsterdam pisshouse for males

  

                                                       Amsterdam,

This funny looking contraption is a typical Amsterdam urinoir - for males only - located on the Keizersgracht in the Amsterdam canal zone, close to the Anne Frank House which is convenient for when I sell my funny hand made Mandala games at this Numero Uno tourist hotspot here in my beloved Mokum...

I have to admit though that despite this being a urinoir, it is frequently used by the Westermarket square habitual alcoholics as a shithouse as well, black, thin and very smelly typical alcoholic's diarrhea smeared all over the place makes this funny little males only toilet far from attrctive for your daily needs... 

Rene De France

                                                  Amsterdam,

Unfortunately Rene spook Pas D'Anglais and my french has been known to have seen some better days, like when I did my backpacking in former french colonies of the continent of L'Homme Noir...

Still, as a well-experienced streetseller of the Amsterdam city centre with years of interactions with nationalities across the globe, customers from Todas Las Partes de Este Mundo - oh wait...that was Espanyol though I am sure the meaning got across - I managed to convince Rene with his heavily accented French to give me some of his precious tourist time for this sketch, and sold him two Mandala games...even send him and his little rowdy family on their merry way to the Sara´s Pancake House in the Raadhuis Street, right next to the Nadia Hotel, in no tourist guide but the tastiest pancake house in good old Mokum, once they came out of the Anne Frank House..

Merci Beuaocoup, Rene and Bon Voyage back to that obscure little hamlet in the south of Franch you claimed to come from...   

My latest couchsurfer Lydia from London

                                                        Amsterdam,

Lydia, my latest http://www.couchsurfing.org/ guest, has done some fairly interesting things in her life like working in conflict zones as a human rights monitor in Colombia, traveling in Mexico and Kenia, Mongolia, to just name some of her diverse tourist destinations...nowadays working in her native London as a psychoterapist...

 Thanks for your company, Lydia, the great meal we had at the Kam Yin and the two guiness at Cafe De Wildeman, the rainy boat trip across the Amsterdam canals and the Numero Uno conversations we had together...least but not last to take the time for this five minutes drawing...

Three Thai models, the Hot Momma on the boulevard

I did these three Thai ladies last winter during my latest stint in that mys terious Asian realm where I feel relaxed and enjoy the good weather, the cold Leo beers and tasty Thai food...three months a year while my buddies here in Amsterdam freeze their Farang balls off...

Three Thai models, the laundry lady

Three Thai models, the reception lady

The queue of the Albert Heyn supermarket.

                                                           Amsterdam,

I am sure you know the feeling, busy, busy, busy, hardly any time to do your shopping and assorted household things like the washing-up or your laundry, after all time is money...

For me, a dedicated streetseller who sticks to the rules of my licence, "you can only sell what your own hands fabricate", not like all these Eastern Europeans on Leidseplein and Rembrantplein downtown selling hunderts of prints, Amsterdam city sights on plain old Xeroxed cheap paper - two euro a print and sold as originals for twenty or thirty-five euro...yeah, lets bullshit our dear foreign tourists their hard earned holiday out of the tourist pockets...for me time is money, every game made is a game sold after all!!!

No, there is me here in the endlessly long Albert Heyn supermarket line, trying hard to wait patiently for my turn to pay my shopping, a bottle of Mooi Kaap for in front of my telly tonight and a Magnetron Surinam Nasi pork wrapped in transparent plastic at special discount, trying hard not to let my impatience show, my frustration with this old hag who holds up the whole line of equally desperated office stiffs, that old d*rned woman spending most of her days behind the proverbial Geraniums, her pension maybe well deserved but no reason to show the whole line of shoppers the colored of her underwear through the worn fabric of her cheap shorts while bending forward to hassle that six year old kid who clings fearfully to his Mum's bare legs...

Well, unlike the office stiffs I have my sketchbook and markers, my black pen and artistic mind to chase away frustration and desperation alike... 

Young José, the Peeping Tom From Barcelona

Young José from Barcelona was quite proud today at the Anne Frank House, to show of his English as well as his Peeping Tom adventures while posing for me, telling me Con Orgullo how he watched a Chinese lady taking a shower through a crack in the lady's shower room this very morning back at his cheap dormitory style Bob's Youth Hostel on the Nieuwezijds Voorburgwal 92, buying one game for five Euro...

I made sure he got the worse game in my case, the one he choose sercretly switched with a game that had just been molested by a group of rowdy loud mouthed Israeli Anne Frank House visitors, bored to the max and all of them at the same moment trying to bring the price down - "why not three Euro, man? Why not? Why not? - coming out of thirty bad mannered Israeli throats, all of them reaching for my games - "just looking man, yeah, well, you look with your eyes and pay five Euro a game with your hands or else return to your place in the queue...

Well, by now you probably found out that my hands are quicker then Barcelona peeping tom hands, José...and what I think about your "crack in the lady's room door" adventures back at your cheap Bob's Hostel downtown is mostly likey cristal clear to you after fisihing reading this blog story...

As for Bob's Youth Hostel on the Nieuwezijds Voorburgwal 92, dear readers of this blog...unless you fancy cockroaches running around and bed lice...stay away from the place, it is cheap for good reasons...

Thomas Voekler on the way to Lordes and fame and glory

                                                        Amsterdam,

Several days of torrential rain keeping me in the house, no way I can sell my funny little games at the Anne Frank House, freaking around with my acrylics paint instead, making new games for more sunnier days and watching Thomas Voekler on his way to Lourdes, on his way to fame and glory in Le Tour De France...that is, as long as he stays dope-free!!!

A Hindustan lady at the Albert Heyn supermarket

                                                 Amsterdam,

I saw this Hindustan lady today waiting patiently in the Albert Heyn supermarket, reminding me a bit of all these foreign tourists that always wait patiently outside the Anne Frank House downtown to see the world famous Achterhuis, waiting for the inevitable emotional cascade when they will experience the admosphere that rules that poor Jewish girl's hiding place, who aspired to become a writer and - as is always the case with artists the world over - became a number one hit years after her miserable death in a Polish termination camp run by brutal Ocrainian collaborators...

Considering the torential rains that have been plaqueing my native Holland lately, there is Nada to do for a determined ambulant street seller like me but to make more games inside my house, waiting for better and sunnier days, maybe take a break and freak around a bit with my paint, my crappy old pensils and pens, my markers and wooden boards, Bangkok newspaper pages still aplenty...
  

A woman to relax

                                                 Amsterdam,

A quick portrait I did today in my house after returning from the Anne Frank House, selling and making Mandala games all day, explaining my games to a multitute of different nationalities, half a dozen of foreign tongues passing through my head in the course of five hours, leaving my gray brain cells exhausted...

Cycling home as always, late afternoon, my battered old MANDALA case tied to the back of my Giant bike, through the heart of the Jordaan, the oldest part of Amsterdam, locals greeting me in passing asking me if I had a good day...

Ready for a coffee and a cold beer, relaxing in the house, maybe this portrait from my dream world, acrylics on an old page of the Bangkok Post still lingering on my living room table, waiting there for months already for exactly that purpose...

Freaking around with my paint, my jars of acrylic and crappy pencils, a woman from my dream world coming out of my Gringo head in paint on a Bangkok Post paper...a woman just to relax... 

Done with the Dead Wino, part two

Amsterdam,

I keep a close eye on the half empty bottle of Mooi Kaap red wine from the Appie Heyn supermarket just around the corner from my house...not a bad wine at only 1.98 in stupid Euros but unacceptable to me right now considering I will have to do my free of charge volunteer job at the petting zoo in mere hours, people waiting in front of the gate for my arrival, the guy with the keys, the alarm code inside my Farang mind, Magriet the lady boss back home counting on my to be there in time, shovel horse manure and goat shit all morning...

I am sitting on the ground of my house here in my beloved Mokum deciding wether or not to drink the other half of that tasty Mooi Kaap while being surrounded by jars containing dirty water and used pensils, tipes of acrylics, makers strewn around at random, Bangkok Post newspaper covered in colorfull acrylic paintings of naked Thai ladies reminding me of my winter stints in that Farang male paradise called Pattaya only two hours and 120 Baht from Akkamai bus station in Bangkok...

But also reminding me of Moo and my latest dreams of her, my Nongshao in Thailand, refusing my help, my Farang money, stupid Euros that mean Nada to me and enough of that shit in my fat wallet for at least a medical examination of her poor health...

But NO...she refused that using stupid Thai logic that despite years of coming to that crazy Asian realm is still beyond my Western trained mind, my gray brain cells going helter skelter eyeing that half full bottle of Mooi Kaap with suspicion and desire alike...

But No...I am done and over with the Dead Wino....have a job to do in mere hours, people counting on me, hungry petting zoo animals waiting for me, volunteers knowing for sure I will not leave them in the rain but open the gates!!!  

A photo from a customer

                                                 Amsterdam,

Though my customers make photo after photo of me selling my little funny Mandala games, I hardly ever get to see them...this one was send to me by e-mail this morning...

Thanks my friend and dear customer, much appreciated.

Two Thai monks from my mind

Amsterdam,

With my latest sketchbook Pas De blank pages, full to overflow with the portraits of my customers at the Anne Frank House, dozens of quick sketches of foreigner tourists willing to pose for me instead of feeling bored in the endless long queue outside that poor Jewish girl's hiding place from Nazi swines over half a century ago, the dairy she wrote during her ordail giving people from all over the place the patience to wait in line for up to two hours or even more...

Me, the ambulant streetseller of funny little games facing the line, making my precious Mandalas on the spot and occasionally taking a break from my hard work bending silverwire, sketching my customers as a means of escape from dedicated handicraft labour....

Well, I am sure you get it...my sketchbook is full, no more blank pages and all that...time to start on another one, a new sketchbook, new paper, new material I have to get used to before reembarking on my unofficial art project...

So I did these two Thai monks last night in front of my telly, my markers strewn all around me as is often the case at my Plekkie at the Anne Frank House, a glass of Red Wine standing forlorn among all my art material - it will be a small carton of Vivit drink yogourt at the Anne Frank - and Arnold Schwarzenegger killing off his enemies on my telly using a bazooka that even in his massive hands looks just a tiny bit too big to be realistic...

Hope you like these two monks though...

Two Chinese ladies at Cafe De Wildeman

Amsterdam,

These are the two Chinese ladies that occupied my friend Paul's couch, courtesy of http://www.couchsurfing.org/, and who joined us at Cafe De Wildeman for a pleasant evening of drinking beer and chatting about our different cultures, leaving Paul and me with the bill...

Hope you will recognise them in these portraits Paul...took me a couple of weeks before I had the spare time to finish them...still it was a nice enough evening even though we were left to face the beer bill...

RIP, Tijgertje, my feline friend

Amsterdam,

This is a sketch of Tijgertje - little tiger in my native Dutch -, the castrated tomcat at the petting zoo where I do my little social thing for the neighborhood, shovelling Shetland pony manure, cow shit and even more goat dung, no pay to speak of but great for my Karma...yeah, maybe I will come back a Shetland pony or Blakervelder Friesland cow in the next life instaed of a cockroach or dung beetle for my efforts for the Barrio's little ones...

Though Tijgertje was a very social cat, perfect for a petting zoo, he was feared by most of the farm's mice population who by now probably celebrate his sorry demise on top of the volunteers' breakfast table - remind me to wipe that table thouroughly next time around...

Tijgertje had been quite "out of sorts" lately, looking in a worse shape each passing week and finally had to be put down to eternal sleep...

Adios my feline friend!!!

Mister No Name

Amsterdam,

I met this character a few days ago at the Anne Frank House while I was busy sketching this Thai monk whose southern Thai was nearly incomprehensible to my Farang white Isan Thai trained ears...

Willing to pose for me but unwilling to give me any personal info...

Fair enough Mister No Name though your English accent gave away your Bratwurst Und Sauerkraut nationality...Danke Sehr Für Deine Zeit... 

Another friendly Thai monk at the Anne Frank House

Amsterdam,

Another friendly Thai monk at the Anne Frank House today where, by the way, my little one man Mandala street enterprise is going sky high, who was quite willing to let me do his portrait though his southern Thai was nearly incomprehensible to my northen Isan Thai trained Farang ears...so getting Nit Noi personal info on my subject's life was difficult if no nigh...no words of Queen Victoria's English didn't fascilitade things much...

Still...Khop Khun Khap for your prescious monkhood time Phom Puen... 

A rat in the kitchen, or maybe an alcoholic on my toilet

A rat in the kitchen or my alcoholic pal rob sitting on my toilet, I wonder what I would prefer while I listen to the sounds of his alcoholic induced stinking thin shit pushing itself with sick making revulsive sounds out of his darms, his babbling mouth invading the peacefull thoughts in my Farang mind that is far away, as usual ten or twelve hours flying to the other side of the world, his heavy strong Amsterdam accent, almost incomprehensible to my southern Dutch ears though years of experience has thaught me to make sence of it, drifting out of my bathroom and across my living room, stories from the Brotherhood of Professional Drunks from Westerpark, their trials and jubilations, their fights and endless arguements foremost on his drug and beer destroyed mind...

I know I won't be able to withstand the horrible smells coming from my bathroom for hours after he has left, a green colored five Euro note crumbled up in his massive fist, on his way to the Albert Heyn supermarket, changing my hard earned dough into cheap luke warm pilsener and a Mary-Jane joint in the process...I least I get him out of the house...

Paul's invitation for a couple of beers in Cafe De Wildeman in the carming company of two young Chinese ladies - his first http://www.couchsurfing.org/ guests - to brighten our male moods, comes in as a welcome surprise... 

Lola from Tilburg

Lola from Tilburg, that city in the south of Holland where I spent most of my youth in a strong religious catholic boarding school surrounded by violent friars who were quite willing to literally beat the word of their Holy Lord Jesus Christ into you with a toilet brush if necessary...

Well, at least 18 year old Lola grew up under more normal family matters realising that at her early age in life she still at it all still ahead of her...a bit of a chatter box really who claimed her only addiction in this world was her daily Caf-Pow...

I spend five of the ten Euros she gave me for three Mandala games for two coffee...both of our addictions satisfied, her Caf-Pow and my drawing addiction...