Thursday, November 18, 2010

Do people even read this thing, anyway?

I actually feel like bloggin' today, so here it goessss.

Today I started volunteering at my praktikum, or internship with IDFA (international documentary film festival Amsterdam). Winterwonderland and IDFA have overtaken Rembrandtplein- it doesn't look like a square anymore, now it's covered in santas and sinterklaas and an iceskating rink and IDFA box office and touristy food stands. Crazy.

For IDFA, I'm part of the poster team... basically we just hang up posters of the next day's films where they'll be showing... but it's like a giant puzzle between all the theaters partaking in IDFA, and posters need to be switched every day. But I get a free shirt, crew pass, lunches, and viewings of documentaries. So that's pretty cool. Saw "Waiting for Superman" today, and it's about how shitty American school education is. Definitely worth seeing!

On Monday morning I didn't have class, since classes have ended and the next 4 weeks we'll be doing research and writing 40 page ISPs on our own. But I took the free morning and biked over to the Noorderkerk in NW Amsterdam. Not far from me, you just take Hugo de Groot to Bloemgracht to Prinsengracht and it's right there. Monday and Saturday mornings there's the Noordermarkt, where you can get all kinds of food type things Saturday and more so used clothing on Monday. But there's also music, antiques, cheeses, and other wonderful things. It's my favorite market of the ones I've been to here. I love me some Eastern Market in DC, but this is just as lovely :D

I spent a long time in the market, wandering around, sifting through giant piles of "bargain" €5 clothing. Bargain my ass... I can't afford clothing here at all, when I'm so used to buying all my clothes at the Village Thrift in Pennsauken NJ for under a dollar :) I just love free clothes the best. I did find an awesome sweater that I really wanted in someone's trash, but it was all wet. I may be the world's biggest trash-picker, but wet sweaters are super gross. Anyway, I loved just taking my time to enjoy the whole market and the morning to myself. My host sister came with me, but left much earlier. She got bored, I think. I had to explain to her that I practically grew up in flea-markets and antique stores, and I like to take my time and hunt for bargains and look at old things that I wish I could fill a place of my own with. It's really an under-appreciated art, bargain hunting. I found a beautiful red dress and crazy green, bright sweater for pretty cheap, as well as a free scarf.

I'll really miss that, I think. Being able to bike around to markets and find what I need or what I'm looking for. My very own medina. After living in DC, visiting Philly well enough over the past 20 years to "know it" pretty well, and living in Amsterdam, I have to admit that I'm a city girl. I just love the cafés and bikes and people and bustle and art and music and history... I don't think I could live anywhere but a city later. I mean, I can go to a jazz bar on Sundays with my host mom and have some wine and cappuccinos. And if I need green,  I can bike to various parks and see green and birds and flowers. And I have water around me, since canals are ubiquitous. Or I can go to any museum or old church or concert hall- it's there for the taking!

I always felt overwhelmed and scared in NYC. But not here. Here I feel a sense of history, belonging, and culture differences all at the same time. It's a safe place here. As far as differences between the states and Nederland, I do miss knowing where to buy things, and how cheap clothing everything is in the States. And the toilets. I really don't like toilets here very much. Whoever invented the shit shelf is a total douchewad. I much perfered the turkish toilets in Morocco, even.

Well I can't end this on toilets, so let's just say I'm beginning to paint for the first time in my life, and I find it really soothing and inspiring. Even if it's crappy finger painting paper and HEMA watercolors (all I can afford) I look forward to buying real painting supplies in the states, and trying my hand at being artistic. Cause why the hell not?

Saturday, November 13, 2010

You're going to reap just what you sow.

Today was one of the more perfect days of life.

My first thought this morning was "I woke up today with a poem in my teeth". And then I wrote a poem and said to myself, "make your own happiness today".

And I had some shits to do. So I got up early, biked to HEMA on the Kinkerstraat to buy batteries for my recorder, and then I google mapped where my interview was and biked over. It was Cassie's host mom, and I watched a program showing Sinterklaas come from Spanje to Nederland, with his 6 to 8 black men.

Definitely helped my Dutch to watch the program for an hour. And then I interviewed my interviewee, and ate some pepernoten, little round gingerbread-type cookies, and got some good information from her. After I left, I biked around the Museumplein, thinking I felt like visiting a museum. And I decided I didn't feel like a museum after all, I wanted to do something outside.

Instead, I  biked through Vondelpark, the largest park in Amsterdam. So I had some xxx and cheese, and biked the entire park while I listened to my ipod loudly. It was a totally gorgeous fall day, not too chilly and it wasn't raining. At some point I really had to pee, though, so I peed in some bushes. Hopefully no one noticed but if they did, whatever.

And when I came out of the bushes, a friend had decided to join me. The tiniest of snails was slowly snailing on my iPod. Seriously, this snail was so small and fragile and adorable. Smaller than my pinky nail. Awww. But I took it as a sign- since snails are my favorite. And I placed him on a mossy tree because iPods are no place for snails.

When I'd biked the entire park through a few times, I decided to bike my way back towards SIT to Rembrandtplein and maybe grab a coffee or something. On my way I got to hear a punk band performing on a moving stage surrounded by bikes and paraders. I took some video.

When I got to the plein I heard a fantastic street musician. He was older, with long grey hair, and definitely no amateur. I sat next to a tree, and just became a part of his music. I can't really describe his sound... it was riffy, electric guitar, but with electronic and eastern influences. I listened to him until he ended his set, and then threw some money in his guitar case.

As someone who has also busked, you can tell from your crowd what type of people they are: Some dudes sitting at the cafe a few feet away clapped after his songs, and some people listened to one or two and shuffled off to go get smashed in bars or fill up the coffeeshops, or whatever touristy things they wanted to do. Only two of us listened to his entire set- me and an old man leaning on a trashcan, drumming with his fingers and smiling.

I sat and freely fed off his music. I wasn't inspired to write or paint like I usually am. Instead, I was just happy to be there and make the choice to sit and listen in the corner.

When I went to thank him and throw a euro in his case, he asked me if I was a musician. I said, yes, what makes you say that? and he "you look like a musician. That, and it's the energy." He's totally right. Musicians can totally feel each other's energy. He knew I loved and appreciated his music just by the fact that I listened to him like I would listen to a performer. (So many people, however, see a busker as a homeless person or as a poor person who has nothing else to do. Even if the music is as good as the music people pay for, they won't listen because they haven't paid.) He knew, and if I was him, I would have known. I was always good at that, seeing myself from a third person perspective, or switching bodies for a moment and looking from above at the scene. Maybe I SHOULD have become a Director of Photography like the "find out what job you should do" Test told me in high school.

But anyway, I told him I appreciated his set and his conversation, and we parted ways. I wish I'd asked his name or where I could hear him again, because his guitar was THAT good.

The experience reminded me of the Joni Mitchell song "for free". I always love things more when they're free... something that has always been rewarded in my upbringing. A good bargain, a steal. I'm the bandit. I know, I'm such a fucking Freegan- but I love it! And when music is free, it's sweeter, cleaner. I'll pull the Wilde card and say Art for Art's Sake here. But as much as I love art that has meaning and reason, that says something and makes you feel a point- I really love art for art's sake. I don't care how many times Russ has called me bougy for it, but when someone sits on a corner and plays music, and I get to stop what I'm doing to listen as the sun sets and the lights flicker on, slowly, I just love it! Winter Wonderland Amsterdam, flash the signs. Rembrandtplein becomes a skating rink, as well as the IDFA (documentary film festival where I'm volunteering) center, for a few weeks.

A great thing about having the day all oneself is you can do whatever you want. Such beauty in that simplicity. You can actually sit and listen to the free concert. You can actually bike all over the park. Take the day and make the day.

Really, quite lovely.