(repost form the summer)
The benefit to be an artist is beautiful, you can do whatever you want and say because you are an artist.Art is art , either you like it or not but don’t judge if this is ‘done’ or not, it is art, always , because it is.God my life is good, almost perfect!I can put pictures of myself to show off to be the coolest of the crowd and say, hey it is art ! I sell them, they are to be seen in Art Fairs and galleries.Yay how cool am I !Ha yeah right…and then you come to this party, full of my old dutch crowd. (Note: it has been 12 years that I am gone)Ding dong ..like Eminem:What he wrote down, the whole crowd goes so loud
He opens his mouth, but the words won’t come out
He’s chokin’, how, everybody’s jokin’ now
The clocks run out, times up, over, blaow!
Snap back to reality, oh there goes gravity
Oh, there goes Rabbit, he choked….Hey Lolo how are you?Oh my oh my, my brains go from left to right up and down, who is she? I completely put her in the wrong setting because of her appearance , she looks different.My brains make a little jump to how the sun makes the difference in our south european lives , the joy, the warmth , the sensual heat gives the people this special glow.So I say, oh help me ( this all with those mirror sunglasses on, how can you expect me to recognise you if I see myself in your mirror glasses, who are you, I know who I am !?)She takes the glasses of tells her name and we are set for the next minutes.In my right ear I hear ‘Oooh it is you Lolo, I finally see you in reality’, ‘how amazing’ , she gives the mirror glasses girl a poke and giggles ‘she puts selfies on Facebook’.I smirk , put a beautiful smile on my face and keep the silence going, the mirror glasses doesn’t know where she finds herself in and says, ‘oh how nice so you put selfies on Facebook ‘, I don’t have Facebook’...obviously,. otherwise you would have known that my job is to make you happy on Facebook with my selfies..or at least I think that is the thought of the other. I am confused..selfies?Saved by the bell by a very enthusiastic other sunglasses , L o l o ( what is with the name !? ,.why always want to spell my name as if I don’t know my own name, I hate it, do you learn that in therapy !?) Your sunglasses hurt my cheeks whilst you kiss me hello, she is screaming with her party voice ‘I understand you live her already so long, it is one big party’, ‘we partied till 6 o’clock in the morning so cool here’ and so I reply humble ‘ ‘yes one big party my dear sunglasses’.I need a beer , maybe I should make a selfie .The same old conversations start again ,roots, schools good enough on an island, boardingschools.. oh noo, your kids are where ? why there? Madrid what is in Madrid? , Barcelona ..cant follow , when do you come back?, I try to reason her and answer ‘I will not come back, that face of her when she answers’ huh never??’..Jeeez noo ! As if I am here in a temporal therapy or a rehab clinic to soon return to “normal” civilisation , one big party follower, a selfie junkie!..
I live here.I am tired and sit on a perfect bed next to the pool, you are there drinking at the bar, dancing balancing on your too high heels, hands in the sky as if there is no tomorrow.I find myself looking at the life I left, I wonder why I always find myself in the situation that I feel the need to defend what I do , artist or not I should not have to. Maybe still too polite. I am aware of the stories they take home so I put on my best smile and my best story, why do I feel misunderstood.
I come back on the story I have written before you are here for a party and your holiday ,I am here to live and to stay.Why do we judge so easily , and why do you judge so loud, Eminem asks as well.I sit and watch the crowd go completely drunk, you probably take a taxi, I want to drive home.The moment arrives that the booze is talking louder than your own judgement and all of you jump in the pool with your perfect Ibiza style dresses, Mobiles still in your hands , I smirk again..make a selfie now and we compare on Facebook.