Most of my days while waiting for my Bangkok departure, are spent in complete boredom, getting up with a red wine hangover from the night before, a bicycle ride through chilly Amsterdam to that homeless centre De Tweede Mijl for a free bowl of awfull tasting soup, waiting in the Albert Heyn to pay for my shopping - no prolotarian shoplifting for me -, the usuall crap of being alife in a city that has long ago lost its appeal to me...or at least at this time of year.
However, the evenings are a different matter all together, the evenings when I withdraw to my little mental Buddhist prayer cell while I freak around with my acrylic paint, nude females in all their physical glory appear on the wooden boards I have so laboriously carried upstairs during the last summer...my gray brain cells are in some sort of strange trance transporting me across time and distance, to dirty, smelly bars in third world garbage belts, capitals and sex tourist hang-outs, where trhe local women are available by the hour in small dingy rooms upstairs or in the back of the dump, where the bed sheets are stained with the sticky remains of your predecessor's cum...
My fingers holding the paint brushes fly arcoss the wood like lightning, big daubs of paint land on the floor and my dirty old blue jeans...
Inside my caucasian mind a cultural meltdown is in full progress, having no control over my mental processes or the outcome of my crazy artwork!!!
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