Tuesday, April 30, 2013
Eastern at the petting zoo in Westerpark in Amsterdam.
Hard work but no pay, remember, but highly beneficial for my Kharma, yeah maybe I will come back as a goat next time around.
Sunday, April 28, 2013
Why did I ever pick this carreer?
Street derelicts stumbling around my little ambulant street selling
places outside the Anne Frank House exit, torn clothes uniformly dirty,
the aroma coming off unwashed bodies inescapably entering my
nostrils...I know that beneath the grime their skin is white but it is
hard to see any bare skin underneath the filth, yellowish fingernails
betraying the determined chain smoker, homeless alcoholics and crack
addicts, Mary-Jane aficionados as always on a mad hunt for change,
attracted by the long queue of foreign visitors to one of Amsterdam's
number one tourist hot spots...
The anne Frank security people deperaately trying to scare them all away but the moment their guard drops the puking smell in my Farang nostrils making it clear they are back with a vengeance even before my Dutch blue shiners discern them...
I wanna think of far-away Thailand and its many attractions, open-air food courts, the tasty smell of fish sauce and countless other culinary street food aromas, my thirst quenched by cold to the touch condensed bottles of Leo beer, rising steam coming off barbequed Khung and Plamuk...
I wanna think of friendly smiling oriental people instead of sitting here in good old Mokum once again surrounded by street urchins and tourists that don't buy my funny little games...
Another summer of listening to nutcase street nonsense screaming obscenities at unseen antagonists, losers with no future...
The anne Frank security people deperaately trying to scare them all away but the moment their guard drops the puking smell in my Farang nostrils making it clear they are back with a vengeance even before my Dutch blue shiners discern them...
I wanna think of far-away Thailand and its many attractions, open-air food courts, the tasty smell of fish sauce and countless other culinary street food aromas, my thirst quenched by cold to the touch condensed bottles of Leo beer, rising steam coming off barbequed Khung and Plamuk...
I wanna think of friendly smiling oriental people instead of sitting here in good old Mokum once again surrounded by street urchins and tourists that don't buy my funny little games...
Another summer of listening to nutcase street nonsense screaming obscenities at unseen antagonists, losers with no future...
Friday, April 26, 2013
Wednesday, April 24, 2013
Tuesday, April 23, 2013
Ceska showing off my artwork
A friendship going back a full 25 years, thanks for all the good times and all the laughs we shared together my dear, highly appreciated.
Pages from my sketchbook
Monday, April 22, 2013
Friday, April 19, 2013
Thursday, April 18, 2013
The real world as seen from the peripheral watch of my eyes.
Amsterdam, 18 April 2013,
No female voice cooing in my ear during the night, no Miss Endu owned female extremities wrapped around my naked body during the night in my New Star room, no Hot Momma voices late at night on Pattaya's boulevard "Hey sexy man, Padduay, me go with you tonight", no sitting back surrounded by starving Isan ladies of the infamous nightlife hoping for a free drink, twenty THB for food and sweaty semi-drunk customers with a fat wallet, sharing cold Leo beer while talking with them about their trails and tribulations, no sitting back and watch Farang males go by on a mad hunt for nighttime companionship of the local female gender - or maybe of the third gender - ....
Shit, I am so deperate to be back in King Bhumipol's Asian kingdom I wouldn't even mind the alu cans of Leo flying around my intoxicated farang head, a result of yet another small time war between Kathoys and Isan born rice farmers' turned whores over customers...imagine my deperation...
But No I feel like I am on a conveyer belt these days, kind of an assembly line of producing portraits and naked ladies coming forth from my nutcase mental Limbo, dreaming about female nudes in the acrylic way, waking up in a strange sort of deperate reality that forces me to enter that monk's medtitation cell, entering the Freak Around With My Paint Limbo, fogetting time and reality for all I care, drink cold beer aand Red Wine, untill I wake up in the darkness of the night, either in my bed or on the paint covered floor...
From the peripheral watch of my eyes I can see the real world but feel unwillig to return....
No female voice cooing in my ear during the night, no Miss Endu owned female extremities wrapped around my naked body during the night in my New Star room, no Hot Momma voices late at night on Pattaya's boulevard "Hey sexy man, Padduay, me go with you tonight", no sitting back surrounded by starving Isan ladies of the infamous nightlife hoping for a free drink, twenty THB for food and sweaty semi-drunk customers with a fat wallet, sharing cold Leo beer while talking with them about their trails and tribulations, no sitting back and watch Farang males go by on a mad hunt for nighttime companionship of the local female gender - or maybe of the third gender - ....
Shit, I am so deperate to be back in King Bhumipol's Asian kingdom I wouldn't even mind the alu cans of Leo flying around my intoxicated farang head, a result of yet another small time war between Kathoys and Isan born rice farmers' turned whores over customers...imagine my deperation...
But No I feel like I am on a conveyer belt these days, kind of an assembly line of producing portraits and naked ladies coming forth from my nutcase mental Limbo, dreaming about female nudes in the acrylic way, waking up in a strange sort of deperate reality that forces me to enter that monk's medtitation cell, entering the Freak Around With My Paint Limbo, fogetting time and reality for all I care, drink cold beer aand Red Wine, untill I wake up in the darkness of the night, either in my bed or on the paint covered floor...
From the peripheral watch of my eyes I can see the real world but feel unwillig to return....
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
Non-existent anymore Thai friends
I shouldn't leave righteous ways behind, not speak untruths or unrighteous statements, think about my Kharma and improve seriously on it, think about the teachings of Lord Buddha and forget about my Thai friends who are no longer in the Land Of The Living, or else rotting away in Bhangkwa Prison - haven't gone there in years visiting those that were lucky enough the survive the harsh laws of the Krung Thep Metropolis but not fortunate enough to stay out of that what is supposed to be Law and Order in The Land Of Smiles...
No mental cell ringing and taking me out of my trance, the trance of freaking with my acrylics here in Amsterdam, good old Mokum, my chaotic house filled to overflow with memories of the past, either real or in human produced momentoes or else ethereal in my nutcase mental Limbo...Phis and Phra Phum disturbing my much needed sleep and waking moments alike...
The fumes coming out of my cherished spray cans getting me high and emotional or else these aforementioned mometoes, Red Wine and blue colored alu cans of half liter Bavaria improving my inspiration but bringing more chaos to my mental peace, if ever there was any peace at all in that fucked-up mind of mine...
Should get up early tomorrow and work some more on my over-damaged Kharma, shovel horse manure and cow shit, clean the stables of goats and throw out the crap of Miss Piggy, my neighborhoodly thing, get home and shower, ty my battered old suitcase containing my one-man Mandala street business to the back of my rusty old bicycle and spend another day at the Tourist Hot Spot Numero Uno of good old Mokum, the Anne Frank House, return home and freak around with my paint, forget and ignore that mental phone reminding me of my non-existent anymore Thai friends
No mental cell ringing and taking me out of my trance, the trance of freaking with my acrylics here in Amsterdam, good old Mokum, my chaotic house filled to overflow with memories of the past, either real or in human produced momentoes or else ethereal in my nutcase mental Limbo...Phis and Phra Phum disturbing my much needed sleep and waking moments alike...
The fumes coming out of my cherished spray cans getting me high and emotional or else these aforementioned mometoes, Red Wine and blue colored alu cans of half liter Bavaria improving my inspiration but bringing more chaos to my mental peace, if ever there was any peace at all in that fucked-up mind of mine...
Should get up early tomorrow and work some more on my over-damaged Kharma, shovel horse manure and cow shit, clean the stables of goats and throw out the crap of Miss Piggy, my neighborhoodly thing, get home and shower, ty my battered old suitcase containing my one-man Mandala street business to the back of my rusty old bicycle and spend another day at the Tourist Hot Spot Numero Uno of good old Mokum, the Anne Frank House, return home and freak around with my paint, forget and ignore that mental phone reminding me of my non-existent anymore Thai friends
Monday, April 15, 2013
Finished
Sunday, April 14, 2013
Friday, April 12, 2013
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
Tuesday, April 9, 2013
Her beauty is pure.
Amsterdam,
I might not wake to the whisper of gentle surf and palm tree leaves rustling in a warm breeze anymore, no Miss Endu still asleep and while enjoying her dream world clinging her arms and legs around my body, a bit like the sucking arms of an octopus, sort of hard to unwrap but giving me a strange sense of comfort and unknown Deja Vu...
No getting up on my elbows and watching her dark Asian eyes following a dream in which I, by all probability, play a major role, freed from all deception and in no hurry, no stress to get up early and make it to that long queue of foreign tourists all lining to see the world famous Achterhuis on the Amsterdam Prinsengracht...the poor story of that Jewish girl who kept a emotional and moving Tagesbuch that has drawn people from all over the place...
But that part of this blog story is a real part once again of my existence here in good old Mokum, tying my battered old suitcase to the back of my rusty old Giant ATB and cycle the ten minutes or so to the Anne Frank Huis, sell my games and make plenty of dough so I can once again return to far-away realms so alien to my own but drawing me there with as much force as all these throngs of different nationalities to my home city, humanity from all parts of Mother Earth...
After twenty-five years of selling Mandalas outisde the Numero Uno tourist hot spot of Amsterdam I feel freed of motivation, freed of any type of deception, just wanna sit here and continue the monotony of my life...
Back to my memories, back to Thailand: nudging her shoulder and telling her to wake up, get a shower and prepare for another day on an Asian beach, under a hot Thai sun...after all her beauty is pure
I might not wake to the whisper of gentle surf and palm tree leaves rustling in a warm breeze anymore, no Miss Endu still asleep and while enjoying her dream world clinging her arms and legs around my body, a bit like the sucking arms of an octopus, sort of hard to unwrap but giving me a strange sense of comfort and unknown Deja Vu...
No getting up on my elbows and watching her dark Asian eyes following a dream in which I, by all probability, play a major role, freed from all deception and in no hurry, no stress to get up early and make it to that long queue of foreign tourists all lining to see the world famous Achterhuis on the Amsterdam Prinsengracht...the poor story of that Jewish girl who kept a emotional and moving Tagesbuch that has drawn people from all over the place...
After twenty-five years of selling Mandalas outisde the Numero Uno tourist hot spot of Amsterdam I feel freed of motivation, freed of any type of deception, just wanna sit here and continue the monotony of my life...
Back to my memories, back to Thailand: nudging her shoulder and telling her to wake up, get a shower and prepare for another day on an Asian beach, under a hot Thai sun...after all her beauty is pure
Sunday, April 7, 2013
Sunday at home
Having promised Miss Endu, my latest Thai love affair, I would start selling my funny little games the moment the sun made its first appearance here in cold and windy Amsterdam, make D'argent aand return to her waiting arms...
But no...my freaking around with my acrylics here in my messy and chaotic house in good old Mokum is so addictive and pleasurable, beer and red wine my only company, ignoring my door bell - probably was Drunk Rob again needing dough for King Alcohol and Mary-Jane, I can do without that -
All day in a strange state of mental Limbo I find hard to get out of, break the monotony and finally start making some real Euros again, doomed Euros or hard currency, whatever...
Saturday, April 6, 2013
Feeling bored in Amsterdam
Amsterdam, 06 April 2013.
A voice from the other side of the world, familiar and recognisable, getting me out of my lethargy and self-inflicted boozy state of mind, in front of the telly watching Al Bundy already in his younger years enjoying that particular dirty habit of his "putting his hand inside his pants",...How boring!!!
A world away where I was only mere weeks ago but already like light years away, sort of like the light years I will see flashing by tonight when I will watch yet again another episode of Captain Archer's Enterprise, hightailing it through the Expanse on a mad hunt for an alien species called The Sindy who are bent on the destruction of Mother Earth...How boring!!!
Thailand, where Miss Endu's voice is originating from taking me out of a state of absolute boredom and complete lethargy, a place where life was so much more intence, so much more pleasurable, the food always tasty and cheap, filling and a dinner time and part of the day to look forward to...but no, here in cold Holland I feel bored and stupid lethargy taking over the course of my life...How boring indeed.
A voice from the other side of the world, familiar and recognisable, getting me out of my lethargy and self-inflicted boozy state of mind, in front of the telly watching Al Bundy already in his younger years enjoying that particular dirty habit of his "putting his hand inside his pants",...How boring!!!
A world away where I was only mere weeks ago but already like light years away, sort of like the light years I will see flashing by tonight when I will watch yet again another episode of Captain Archer's Enterprise, hightailing it through the Expanse on a mad hunt for an alien species called The Sindy who are bent on the destruction of Mother Earth...How boring!!!
Thailand, where Miss Endu's voice is originating from taking me out of a state of absolute boredom and complete lethargy, a place where life was so much more intence, so much more pleasurable, the food always tasty and cheap, filling and a dinner time and part of the day to look forward to...but no, here in cold Holland I feel bored and stupid lethargy taking over the course of my life...How boring indeed.
Thursday, April 4, 2013
Asian ladies showing off my artwork
Chil from Hongkong and Nahn from Vietnam showing off my latest artwork
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