The Anne Frank House in Amsterdam.

Holland, Amsterdam,
31 Oct. 2010.

So finally a drawing of the tourist hotspot Numero Uno in Amsterdam, the Anne Frank House...on the "To-Do" list of nearly every visitor to Amsterdam - down and out young coffeeshop habitues excluded I guess.

The original house itself is the one in the middle, colored in green...the house on the far right behind the tree used to be a student's home with me hiding behind that infamous long line of tourists waiting for their turn to enter, selling my games without and before I acquired the benefits of my street selling licence, hiding from the police while making a bundle on funny handmade little Asian games that can be shaped in a multitude of different shapes, Mandala games that brought in all that black undeclared dough that enabled me to make my big and long backpack trips across Mother Earth in my younger years...

Not that the Dutch Amsterdam police were ever really Un Gran Problema with me keeping them informed of pickpocket and street robber activity in the neighborhood...now that I have the licence we are just more open about it with coppers on bike or foot patrol often stopping for a chat...

The student's home is nowadays part of the Anne Frank House and the tree in front of it is where you can find me on any sunny summer day selling and or making my games, answering typical tourist questions, looking after huge backpacks not allowed inside the House, having a chat with members from the nieghborhood, my friends, the Anne Frank security people or the coppers...

In short, a very free and happy life with me wintering in far-away Asia when snow and rain have chased me out of my beloved Mokum... 

Mary from Bangkok.

Holland, Amsterdam,
30-oct. 2010.

So there she is, an artistic version of Mary from Bangkok, a Leuk Kreug lady from Bangkok whose father she never got to know but was apperently an American Black marine, who was a  maybe twenty minutes acquintance of her mother, an Isan lady of the night who worked in one of the numerous bars that were to be found on the Patpong Sois off Chilom Road...twenty minutes were all that it took to father a mixed-race child that the black marine in question most likely never got to know about, a small little gift to the mother on top of the three hundert Baht shorttime before returning to his mega tonnage aircraft carrier...

Mary got an English/American name  which is not all that unusual in Thailand for Leuk Kreug babies and grew up in the bar her mother worked for surrounded by dozens of Hot Mommas from the impoverished provinces in Northern Thailand where she herself never set foot due to her mother being banned from her native village by parents and neighbors...

In her adult life she decided to work for a fast-cook noodle soup street shop off the backpacker's paradise hostel area called Khao sarn Road near the royal Palace in Bangkok where I first met her and did my first sketches of her in my scarpbooks...

Years later I saw her parading up and down on the Pattaya boulevard working out of the PS Guesthouse in rowdy Soi Yamato, working out of the biggest shorttime hotel in all of Pattaya situated in the rauchiest of all Sois in that crazy BIG PARTY resort place...

I guess she decided that working as a Thai Hot Momma was more provitable then waiting on tables for a street fast-cook restaurant surviving on a meagre salary and hoping for a even more meagre tips...following in her mother's foot steps and even getting beyond that.

My fat Pensionado neighbor

Holland, Amsterdam,
27 Oct. 2010.

So there he is, the fat Pensionado neighbor I blogged about the other day, the man that always groans and moans under his breath when he mounts the many steep stairs to his third floor appartment due to arithmic pains in his old bones...

That old survivor on his weird O-shaped legs always willing to tell me the latest gossip of the Spaarndammer Barrio where I live here in good ole Mokum...

The old fatso who always wants to hear about my latest trip to King Bhumipol's Asian realm, trying hard to steer our conversation in the direction of the Thai Hot Mommas walking up and down the Pattaya boulevard, their platform shoes - high heeled lady boots, you know, they call them platform shoes over there and are very popular - going clicketyclack on the pavement...the disappointment clearly visible in his reumy old man's eyes when I steer the conversation topic back to the teachings of Lord Buddha, and the merrits of living your life accordingly, even for us Farangs...

That old but friendly fat neighbor who always has time to spend while watching the world go by from the entrance of that old tilting typical Amsterdam house he lives in...ten minutes of his not so precious time and the prilimenary sketch was finished with the colors done later during the night...thanks old man.. 

Korte Prinsengracht plus gallery Van Slooten in Amsterdam

Holland, Amsterdam,
26 Oct. 2010.

Some houses on the Korte Prinsengracht in the heart of good old Mokum, my beloved Amsterdam...

The little house on the right belongs to Carla van Slooten, a Dutch/Amsterdam artist who does nudes, nature and portraits and The Funny Little Cat as well as workshops in aura reading and healing...

The groundfloor is her personal artelier and open to the public each saturday from 14.00 h. till 18 h.

Mother Theresa in her younger days

Holland, Amsterdam,
25 Oct. 2010.

I love to spend some time in front of my house after my late afternoon sort of daily jog in the park, admire the Yings of the Amsterdam Multiculti society walking by on high heels and throwing provocative smiles in my direction - yeah I knew I needed that shave this morning - , the fat Pensionado from next door always willing for a daily dose of gossip before mounting the steps of his third floor appartment, panting heavily and groaning under his breath due to the arithmic pains in his short O-shaped legs....always reminding me old age comes with a certain price tag.

My lady neighbor, the smells of freshly washed clothes and expensive shampoo invading my nostrils while I keep myself busy with Hannes, her three year old son who she has picked up from his playground, Mon Grand Petit Ami as I always call him in French though soon enough the roles will be reversed I fear...

An unshaved and dirty clothed Rob, bringing me back the dough he has been borrowing this month, reminding me that today was the social wellfare pay day...stale beer smells and a walm of cheap tabacco engulves me before he rushes up my stairs on the way to my toilet, good ole alcoholic's diarrhoae once again getting the better of him...I guess I will have to spend some more time out here admiring the street live of the Amsterdam Spaarndammer Barrio to let the stink evaporate and I can take my shower.

The painting is of a woman I saw today at the Tweede Mijl and who reminded me a bit of Mother Theresa in her younger days...

Random thoughts on the Muslim faith

Holland, Amsterdam,
24 oct. 2010.

Some random thought flashing through my head while reading the saturday newspaper...an article about the present court trail for racist remarks, hate mongering, ect, against Mister Wilders, a populist, rightist Dutch politician who is on a personal crusade against the - what he calls - excrescenses of the Muslim faith...

In the present Dutch political world he is the leader of one of the biggest parties in Holland and though not openly participating in our new governement, but according to many the pupet master though officially only giving it popular support...

Anyway here are some of my flashing thoughts...with the danger included that this will make me the next Danish cartonist to suffer from Muslim hate.

The Muslim fanatic; you must wear Burka!!!
The Muslima: me not like, is too hot, is not sexy.
The faithfull: Wilders or Allah, that is the question.

Waiting for internal problems, or was it interior shit.

Holland, Amsterdam,
22 Oct. 2010.

The waiting room at the OLV Hospital in Amsterdam Oost is full with sorry looking characters, despair and hopelessness beaming out of faces that have quite obviously already given up believing in the miracles of "modern medecine'...this being the waiting room for internal health it seems a fair bet most of these people suffer from cancer, ulcers, heart and artery related diseases, the sort of internal problems that one could quite happily do without...

Maybe long time smokers that have come to the conclusion that life time decisions have in later life become quite cancerous, s*x addicted johns that loved to do the "act" withouth the dreaded rubber but now feel sorry for themselves due to HIV related bodily complains, maybe too much sitting down in sterilised offices with rivers of strong daily coffee and stress to the max making their haerts go boom-boom-boom in the dark and their blood pressure seriously out of hand...

The little spider hanging high overhead in its web seems to pray on all this human mental suffering...

The pages in my sketchbook fill up fast and furious, more despair with each page I fill up before the results of my yearly medical health check will be made public to me...not that I feel all that worried...nearly a year without pot or tobacco, minimum amounts of booze and daily running in the park have given me mental peace and physical comfort.