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The magnolia tree in our garden has performed its magic trick for us for the third time since we moved here. Even with our children climbing and ” decorating” it, it still looks perfectly beautiful with its unfolding leaves. By now, the blossom had started to fall down. Upon being asked why the tree would bother to make all these beautiful flowers, mu oldest son said: “Maybe it is for the people to enjoy them!” Sweet answer.

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DSC00565This was two weeks ago at our caravan. The one in the picture is our neigbor’s. Actually, our spot is quite small, but we don’t mind. It’s a 15 minute bike ride to the beach, the children bike across the campground and can join in all sorts of actviities during holidays.

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These are the feet of two of my men, both reading: the paper and a comic.

Pretty much all we do there is make tea and coffee and keeping warm or sun-bathing and do some reading. Do the dishes now and then and cook on the camping stove next to the caravan. Back to basics, but luxuriously: with electricity: a small heater and a lamp to read and play games by.

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Picknick at the beach, beginners’ fault: nice and sunny at the campsite; too windy and cold for sitting down let alone eating anything without being sandwashed. Alweays good to see the sea though.

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An extra: some urban knitting across the “IJ” – the water that separates the North of Amsterdam from the rest. Behind it is Amsterdam Central Station. A ferry takes you to and from several locations on the North side – and back – for free.


Spring in the city

chaos  &  creation 

Today, I took some time off to stroll across a large market area in the city. The atmosphere was upbeat, because it was the first Properly Warm Day of the year (adding some 10 degrees Celsius to yesterday’s temperature !). I looked into some fabric shops, which is always great. People let you sniff around in these places, usually they are too busy to notice you. Most of the fabrics I find expensive, and I have trouble choosing something – anything – in the end. The whole world seems to depend on it. As in many areas of my life, I let the grand Haphazard pick for me: I usually look for the “coupons”-basket; leftover bits and pieces of fabric, usually big enough to make a baby dress or pair of trousers from, and always cheaper. To pick a truly beautiful, wonderful piece of fabric, fully pay for it and create something worthwhile from it – to achieve all of this, I should Have A Plan. And having to make a plan freaks me out. Sewing is supposed to be my fun thing to do, not to freak out over. I love random ideas and actions. And so, I came home with two strips of pink jersey:

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So far, so good. But then, it’s not enough for a skirt. And only using this the pink flower pattern is too sweet-cute-mommy-ish for me, anyway. So I’ll need to add some of the same texture and mix it. I pull out the stretch-box with thin jersey fabrics in it – (my closet actually is well-organized). I take everything out of the box and start having ideas what to do with all of the pieces of fabric. Lots more than making 1 skirt. So I end up at almost 11pm with a tabel looking like this:

Everything on the table, me writing about how it came to be :)

  Everything on the table, and me writing about how it came to be 🙂

All the nice, inspirational stretch fabrics on one heap. ..

      All the nice, inspirational stretch fabrics on one heap… 

... and as examples: a dress and 3 skirts on another heap.

… and 1 dress and 3 skirts as examples on another heap.

So, here I am now. I should be asleep already, taking good care of myself as I have been doing pretty well since I got the add-diagnosis. Yesterday, I forced myself to read my add-bible – to put it like that. I really should open a googledoc and start summarizing the main points and answering the questions from the book. But, where was I? Ah – by now, I am well on my way accepting that the skirt won’t be finished anytime soon. A good thing: tomorrow the weather will be cooler. Also, I am working on a jeans project for my 8-year-old. It should be trousers with manymanymany pockets ( his wish is my command, as I like these loose assignments; so far, he has always worn the results ), and I am making them from 3 or 4 pairs of used jeans:

...it looks scrappy and unfit for a loose mind to oversee. But this is the stuff I actually love: randomly sewing pieces together and notice how they form a pattern, then putting them in a sort-of uniform shape and see some kind of pattern emerge, after all.

…it looks scrappy and unfit for a loose mind to oversee. But this is the stuff I actually love: randomly sewing pieces together and notice how they form a pattern, then putting them in a sort-of uniform shape and see some kind of pattern emerge, after all.

So, of course I’ll have to get back here with pics of the Finished Projects. I am pretty sure the jeans will be completed, because:

1 – my son will be asking about them;

2 – I put in too many hours already not to finish it. My time is too valuable at the moment.

I dream of being able to just put all of my fabrics everywhere, throw the guys out of the house for 3 days and being able to sew and projectize into eternity. Slight problem: after 24 hours of aloneness, I’ll start feeling depressed. Although I haven’t tried this on meds yet. I do not know yet when I’ll be able to test that, but once I have more time on my hands – which is soon – I really hope I can get myself into a structure of sewing a little bit daily. Or one full day a week. Looking forward to it. Good night for now! (Even though it is afternoon in the States at this moment)

Chaos & creation

L i v e r p o o l

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Liverpool, winter/spring 2003.

I wanted to study abroad like my college friends, but eventually I was so late in applying there was only one place left: a small university in Liverpool. So I went there, followed some courses and learnt life lessons aplenty – such as: you’ll never get as homesick as the 19-year-old girl whose mom sent her pics of their house every morning; you will never bring your own salad dressing like the girls training to be teachers; you will never be popular but people will tolerate your presence. Oh, and some boyfriends will cheat on you two weeks after you left. Taraaa. Looking back, I don’t regret going I  – spent lots of time by myself and practiced being my own best friend. I went to a wonderful Paul McCartney concert and strolled through the Beatles’ neighborhood for 5 months. That was really nice, and during the weekends my best friends and family came to visit. Last but not least: Liverpool is a wonderfully gloomy place. I can’t imagine it ever being warm and sunny there, but even that should be possible. To conclude with; a song by Suzanne Vega that takes me back to Liverpool.

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Liverpool

making wearable things

… after eternal fidgeting with jumping images, the conclusion should be I am better at making this stuff than at displaying it – but these items were made with creativity and while listening to documentaries. So dsomething good must come of that. My sons wear everything I have made so far gladly, but the day will come when they refuse to be test rabbits for my comfy playing clothes or quirky re-shaped former adult clothing. My dream is to custom-make clothing for children with disabilities; with zippers where they are useful (not annoying), velcrow where it is handy (not itchy) and in fabrics that children love. And also: affordable. Actually, I can’t wait for these children’s supervisors to find me – I might have to go look for them myself. Any tips are welcome!

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Making wearable things

This is hard !

OK, I have tried several themes and I really don’t get how it all works, ahh! I think I will do some research in “wordpress for idiots” before trying again. I really don’t want to give up 🙂 I will keep this blog for now, but I guess I already lost the few followers I gained, boohoo. I’ll be back!

Brain matter(s)

After years of struggling against I-didn’t-know-what, I took my best friend’s advice (once again) and went to a psychologist to have myself examined on attention-related issues. I am afraid to use any l diagnostic terms here, but in the end I was told my brain Works in a way that is called: ADD-affected. Attenton Deficit Disorder. Switch to google and you will soon be drowning in information – I wouldn’t, if I were you. Later, I will put up a short text on what ADD is, especially what it can mean for women.

fragment women :)

fragment woman 🙂

Put simply: we all swim in our familiar pools of genes, and the ones that form minorities will have difficulty getting along. For the past two months, I’ve been trying to stay afloat on everything there is to rethink and reconsider. Being happy to know what bugged me, and that I can’t help it really. Wondering why my parents never noticed any of this, and why I was told I wasn’t performing to my ability. Being relieved that I can take a from of speed that slows the eternal buzz in my head. Feeling excited and at the same time down, because I can handle my children so much better on an equivalent of speed. Trying to be optimistic about the future even though my job ends in a few weeks and I have chosen not to stay on as a freelancer in the same work field: administrative tasks which I am extremely unfit to do. I tried this as a fulltime job, and I think I drained my battery severely in doing so during that year. In that respect, I am looking forward to a new era.

Off I go

My brain keeps screaming: “Wait! Make a perfect draft first, sleep on it a month or two and then.. then we shall conquer the universe!” .. I think it is time to post something before I am off again.

I am hoping to bring together millions of aspects of my life in this blog and am looking forward to sharing thoughts, ideas and photos.

This blog should form a momentum of how I started living and viewing my life anew after finding out my brain works a bit differently from the [already broad] norm. Therapeutic – yes ma’am/sir.

Also I plan to change my career – that’s nothing new to me, but starting as a freelance translator will be a big step. Here, I can practice and train myself to keep up and improve the beautiful language that is called English – be it British or American. Feel free to notify me of errors!

I intend to discuss stuff I experience, learn, read in books, to share photos of things I see or make and can’t wait to shape a new universe where I’ll do better in being me.

Thanks for following – bare with me, things will get more colorful!

Me in 1983

1983