Tag Archives: netherlands

2014: learn it all again tomorrow

glassy canals in amsterdam

the new year tends to be a very polarizing event for most people, and it’s no different for me.  when i was a high school kid, my new year’s eves were typically spent trying to find ways to raise mischief at little house parties that i may or may not have been invited to, often by crashing parties dressed in stupid outfits or running through parties screaming stupid phrases wearing only my underwear with women’s leggings over my face to conceal my identity, quickly escaping into the night moments later.  i wish i could say i was lying about that, but i’m not.  what a jackass.

anyway, as i got older, i had my fair share of standard new years parties for college-aged kids, usually semi-responsible affairs with mostly-irresponsible amounts of alcohols or substances, and those behaviors continued on for most of my twenties, some a little rougher than others, but mostly forgettable.  i remember always having this sense of hope that the new year would bring some sort of genuine experience or meaningful memory that would somehow help me find purpose or direction in my next go-round the sun.  unfortunately, that never seemed to materialize and i’d usually spent the night drinking and dancing my way into idiotic oblivion, and by the time the central moment of the night came and passed, my attention span was paper thin and the brain cells holding any memories were long dead.  i always awoke with a headache and a taste of disappointment.

in my last few years of life, i’ve resorted to less-crazy and/or booze-fueled holidays, and opted for more private affairs; small gatherings with close friends and games.  or last year, when i spent the new year watching fireworks on the beach in peru.  these smaller groupings take a lot of the focus off the need for “something big” to happen and they opened up room for self-reflection and authenticity.  and that’s something i’ve learned about myself, is that these are 2 things that i desperately need to make time for, or i become restless and unhappy.

and so i find myself back here for the 31st time in my life (in this blog’s 31st post, how clever), new year’s eve, in the charming city of amsterdam, the first city that made me feel at home and comfortable in my own skin here in europe.  the first city that i wandered in europe without knowing where the hell i was going or what i was supposed to be doing.  the first city where i didn’t speak the language and was legitimately scared to interact with people.  the first city where i was visibly disturbed by a local food custom (mayo on the fries?!?!  NO!!!).  the first city to give me an eye-opening appreciation for visual art (the van gogh museum).  the first city where i met a community of locals that happily accepted me and invited me places.  this place holds a special spot in my heart, and i am happy to be back here among friendly faces, ready to ring in the new year.

but before the fireworks pop and the bubbly flows, before the music bumps and the sky glows, i take a look back on the year that was.  what i thought it was going to be and what it became.  and everything i learned in between.

i learned how to express my feelings instead of bottling them up.  i learned how to deal with loss.  i learned how to accept that i wasn’t happy with my life, and i learned what it meant to do something about it.  i learned what it meant to actually be in love with someone, and how to let go of them when you knew they weren’t coming back.  i learned how to move on.  i discovered my own self worth, and what i am & am not.  i learned how to let go of the wheel, how to stop trying to control everything (okay this one is a constant struggle).  i learned how to search for new horizons.  i learned the importance of “do,” and the danger of complacence.  i learned how to jump without a parachute.   i learned that its okay to not know exactly where you’re going.

i saw so much of the world.  i met so many amazing people.  i cried.  i laughed.  i lived.  i made dreams come true.  i lived life in the present, instead of the past or future.  i took deep breaths. i stopped being afraid.  i listened instead of competed.  i walked.  i stopped planning.

and as the day descends into night over the sleepy canals of the vibrant and pulsing city above them, and i count down the minutes until midnight, when i stand with one foot in the past and one in the future, desperately trying to maintain a grasp on the present, i want to impersonally thank every single soul that has graced my presence this year.  regardless of the interaction or its significance, i assure you it contributed in some way to a life-changing year that no amount of words could ever capture.  but i will keep trying, every week, and i will continue to thank the stars that someone out there is even interested in what i have to say or see.  thank you, every single one of you.  you’re all beautiful.


i thought long and hard about writing some sort of “year in review” section for the music portion of the blog, but ultimately decided against it.  mainly because i feel that the most important aspect of music these days is how it makes the individual feel, not the “message” that it’s trying to send or the movement it’s trying to start.  there are legions of blogs out there whose sole purpose is to explore such topics, but the music component of this blog tries to take a more simplistic appreciation of music.  songs are the soundtrack of our lives, and all our lives have a different path.  what a song means to me is different from what it means to you, so instead of talking about it til we’re blue in the face, let’s just listen to it.

so that being said, i’ve chosen the last we philistines song of 2014 carefully.  it’s a newer song from an old sentimental favorite of mine, ben harper, and the lyrics sum me up pretty well at this stage of my life.  it talks about learning how to accept who you are, faults and all, and being okay with each new day being it’s own step to climb, no matter the past or the future.   while some might find this song a little depressing, i find it to be comforting.  enjoy…


and the we philistines 2014 playlist.  tomorrow we’ll start a 2015 playlist if you care to follow along.  i’ll share that in the next post…

street eats and countryside treats. a farewell to amsterdam

the next day sam & jenna were heading out to france for a little weekend getaway.  my time in amsterdam was coming to a close.  this was also the end of the scheduled part of my journey.  my theory at this point had been to head to germany and then just go from there, but i had made no arrangements and had no real plan of what to do.  i had previously reached out to another old college friend named daniela who has been living just outside of hamburg, germany and asked if she’d be interested in meeting up, and she had unexpectedly and excitedly agreed, but the timing wasn’t working out, so I had to make some decisions.  It had entered my mind that I could easily jump to paris for a few days and then continue on to germany to meet daniela for a time that would align more easily with her schedule, and the more i thought of it, it just made sense.

big red bikes in the dami delayed on booking anything, mainly because i wasn’t entirely sure what I actually wanted to do.  I had really enjoyed Amsterdam and honestly didn’t want it to be over yet, and sam and jenna had even graciously offered to let me stay in their flat while they were out of town, but i felt sort of awkward accepting someone’s hospitality in their absence.  esther-hanna had all but sold me on joining on one of her street food tours of amsterdam, but i was still struggling with the timing, especially if i was going to paris, i wanted to make sure i would be giving paris enough time to appreciate.  but then something great happened.

mark, from the expat gathering a few posts before, reached out to me via email and asked if i wanted to hang out over the weekend.  I had had such a great time with him previously that it was too good to pass up.  i could do the food tour with esther-hanna’s company, Hungry Birds, and then I could hang out with mark the following day.  I informed sam & jenna I’d be staying on for another day or two in their absence.

a cheese vendor in the albert cuyp market hands an eager customer her treats
a cheese vendor in the albert cuyp market hands an eager customer her treats

i will spare all the details of the food tour, lest i give up the trade secrets that Hungry Birds has to offer, but if you are planning on visiting amsterdam for any amount of time in the future, i heartily recommend this afternoon food tour (http://www.hungrybirds.nl).  it’s about 4 hours long, and starts near the famed albert cuyp market near downtown.  we sampled all manner of foods that I had never had the privilege of trying, and the flavors wandered from the spicy to the deliciously sweet, with even some good salty treats thrown in.  some of my favorite highlights include sampling the national dish of the dutch, raw herring (definitely not something I would have ever eaten on my own, and also definitely not for the faint of heart.  Think of sushi, but without all the window dressing of a roll, and a little more than your basic sashimi.  it’s also salty.  Do yourself a favor and force yourself to try it!), as well as a fantastic little cookie shop with fresh-out-of-the-oven treats right as we walked in. i also loved the tasty fried snacks “bitterballen” and “kroket.”  these things are addictive, and the perfect compliment to a beer while watching the game. i would get fat eating these things if i lived here.   but the best of the event was wandering back through an old
antique shop into the back courtyard where the owner served us an authentic private indonesian meal surrounded by a small flower garden.  trying getting that experience on your own.

esther-hanna enjoys a light snack along the hungry birds tour
esther-hanna enjoys a light snack along the hungry birds tour

esther-hanna expertly and enthusiastically led us through at least 9 or 10 different destinations with delightful treats at each stop, and by the end of the tour there wasn’t an empty stomach.  She brought a personal touch to the tour as well, as not only is she from Amsterdam, she’s also half Indonesian, so she had the background on many of the local spots and would share it with us while we enjoyed the eatables.  She is also on a  first name basis with all of the purveyors, so if they weren’t busy, the owner would often spend a little time with us to provide a friendly introduction or provide the backstory behind the business.  It was both inspiring and charming.

esther-hanna sneaks a sniff of a beer on the Hungry Birds food tour of amsterdam
esther-hanna sneaks a sniff of a beer on the Hungry Birds food tour of amsterdam
freshly baked cookies adorn a small bakery window in amsterdam
freshly baked cookies adorn a small bakery window in amsterdam












the next day i met up with mark.  i braved the bicycle lanes again to ride across town to mark and marije’s flat.  a couple other friends of theirs (and sam & jenna’s, of course) were already there:  charl and kim.  we quickly fell into the same agreeable and fun-loving pace of conversation that had been everpresent in the dinner party the weekend before.  charl and kim were also from south Africa (i’m beginning to wonder how many south africans live in amsterdam at this point), and both have a very fun and intelligent nature to them.  charl is a very smart guy with a well-informed wit to him and a light sarcasm that is far from lost on me.  if i remember correctly, i believe he runs his own dentistry practice, and also is apparently a very talented baker, though i never got to sample any of his confections.  meanwhile, kim has a sweet smile and a gentle nature about her.  she’s one of those people you can tell just doesn’t have a malicious bone in her body, and when someone is talking, she’s listening. i was immediately comfortable with them both.

sunset over the canal
sunset over the canal

that night we had a little barbecue up on the roof of mark & marije’s flat.  some tasty burgers mark had prepared, as well as some delicious side dishes that marije had whipped up, we ate well and then the boys again retreated back to the rooftop for mini cigars and whiskey.  we talked for awhile about all manner of things, as guys drinking whiskey and smoking cigars are known to do, the topics straying from science, sport, government, and obviously the differences in culture within all these topics.

one really cool thing we talked about was wine.  i’ve always loved wine, but I’ve never known much officially about regions or aging, or specific grapes or processes, etc.  i just know what i like.  mark was a little more educated than I was on the subject and shared some of his knowledge, particularly with spanish wine, which is something i’ve always been curious about.  i know a little about california and south america, as well as australia and new zealand, but the european wines are a little more daunting, so i’ve never ventured into those regions.  mark had mentioned he knew a little about this because one of his companies was doing some work with a vineyard in the region of priorat with a pretty prestigious wine, so he necessarily learned a little about it both by preparation and exposure.

charl had just returned from a long trip to canada, so he was a little exhausted and ended up falling asleep.  after mark and I joked briefly about messing with him a little, we did the respectful thing and layed a blanket on him so he wouldn’t catch a cold in the night air.  then mark opened up a really nice bottle of wine from the vineyard in priorat he had been talking about and poured me a glass.  I was shocked, but didn’t want to make a big deal out of it since he was offering (plus, i mean, i definitely wanted to try it).  it was fantastic.  i wish i could remember what it was, and if i am able to figure it out, i will update this post with the name.  but suffice it to say that the wine was perfect for the occasion and mark and i stayed up til 4am finishing the bottle and going back and forth with funny stories and experiences of things we’ve learned.  it was a great conversation, and i really valued it.  mark is a wealth of old-world wisdom that you just can’t find in a book and you definitely won’t find it on a tv show or a facebook post.  you have to go through things the hard way to get this kind of experience and wisdom, and i endlessly and curiously pestered him with questions about all kinds of things, seeking answers to what?  i don’t know, but you don’t come across people like that very often and i refused to let the opportunity be wasted.

when all was said and done, mark offered me one of their guest bedrooms, as it was simply too late to try and find my way back to sam & jenna’s place.  i graciously accepted.

windmills in the dutch countryside
windmills in the dutch countryside

the next day i was the last to rise.  everyone was ready to go, but to where?  i wasn’t sure.  marije and kim hopped on bikes and disappeared, while mark, charl, and I got into a car and headed for the dutch countryside.  we escaped amsterdam and sped down windy roads through green fields filled with happy cows, freely grazing without a care in the world.  It was another beautiful day in the netherlands.

we eventually found our way to a really cool barn-like structure where a small market was called lindenhoff.  the main room had farmers market quality vegetables everywhere.  the back room was filled with designer cheeses and wines. And finally, the side room was a giant walk-in freezer room, where whole cow and pig carcasses had been butchered and prepared for sale.  i’m not talking in such a fashion where you go to your grocery and see the packaged rib-eye cut in a cellophane parcel for you to take home.  i mean, the animal’s body was hanging from a transparent, well lit locker.  you point to what part of the animal you want to take home and feast on, and they cut that part off and prepare it and wrap it for to take home and feast.  i felt like i was in a scene from Dexter, the show.  this place was a lab and the butchers were all very friendly, excitable dutch people who expeditiously and efficiently used their massive torture instruments to expertly cut enormous pieces of choice meat for customers.  mark looked at me and said “what should we get?”

i’m no expert on meat.  but I can eat a steak.  i pointed at the largest, reddest, best marbled cut I could see.  It was easily enough steak for like 10 people.  mark didn’t even hesitate, and neither did the quirky dutchman behind the counter with the massive blade of death in his hand.

That night we ate like royalty.  corn on the cob, fresh vegetables, bread (europeans love bread. I can’t even try to describe it), good wine, and the biggest, juiciest, farm-fresh steak ever.  i went to bed extremely happy, both for the food i had consumed and the company i’d had the pleasure of keeping over the last 48 hours.  i could only pray that the next couple months could even be half as engaging as amsterdam had been.  the next day I said goodbye to amsterdam and sam & jenna (after they returned from dijon, france), and hopped on a train bound for paris.



today’s song is stuck in my head and won’t get out.  i blasted this at full volume a lot when i was driving in iceland, on multiple occasions i almost crashed because i was rocking out so hard.  it’s an infectious electro dance beat from aussies “the griswolds,” and if this song is any indication of there talent, these guys could be in for a successful career.  give a listen and i dare you to not dance.  not possible. enjoy…

truth, honesty, and observation

okay, it's not the cafe citroen, but this is the view from its patio.
okay, it’s not the cafe citroen, but this is the view from its patio.

wednesday night arrived in amsterdam with a light rain.  i had spent most of my day sitting in a pleasant little “cafe” called “café citroen,”  writing and editing video and photos (a tip for the uninitiated: in amsterdam, a cafe is a coffee shop, where you can buy coffee.  a “coffee shop” on the other hand… well that’s where you go to buy and smoke marijuana. why they do it this way i have no idea, but if you want play a joke on your significant other, don’t tell them this before they go out for a cup of morning joe) .  jenna had informed me that they would be having a dinner party that night as part of a small group they regularly host for their church.  they had offered me the escape route if i wasn’t interested in attending, and if I’m completely honest, it had been my intention to find something else to do.  but as the sun descended and the rain clouds moved in, i had not, in fact, found anything else to do and i realized that i preferred to spend time with my friends instead.

i got back to the apartment and started to help jenna and sam prepare a curry she was readying for the group of about 10.  always considering myself a better sous chef than actual chef, jenna handed me a knife and instructed me to get chopping.  i’m surprised i didn’t chop one of my fingers off because I was so preoccupied with how I was going to approach the church group atmosphere that was quickly approaching.

i won’t go too far into detail, but i have a complex past with the church and with modern christianity and all the conflicted opinions that go with them.  my family was one of those very religiously conservative families growing up, that on paper and in public always seemed to have everything together, but behind closed doors there was a lot of anger, pain, and chaos.  the duality of the lifestyle always really confused me, and unfortunately i never had many role models in my life (neither in or out of the church) that i could reference as positive examples or influences to draw from).  i then went to a very conservative christian university in search of answers and peace, and while I did eventually find some answers, they weren’t the kind that jive with what typically is preached on sunday morning at the pulpit.  these weren’t destinations i arrived at lightly, as they are the types of slow-burning battles that are fought internally over time, intensity, frustration, confusion, and ultimately release.  But suffice it to say that i understand now that i am older that everyone has their journey and their struggle, and no one man can claim to know the truth, for absolute truth has not been granted to us.  nor can one man truly tell another that he is wrong in his belief, for that is not for us to decide.

so with that being said, my general plan of attack was to basically keep my mouth shut and be a silent observer.  the last thing i wanted to do was somehow influence someone else’s spiritual journey, especially when my own has been littered with so much… well, litter.

the people in the group arrived and everyone was very nice and polite, conversation was very casual for about an hour while food was enjoyed and a couple bottles of wine were shared by the table.  eventually the discussion began, the topic being “transformation.”  jenna led things with the wisdom and grace that i had only come to expect from her, but i noticed quickly that the group was rather shy at first. and then before i knew it, i found myself speaking up to just try and get the wheels greased on the machine.  the silence had made me uncomfortable.

eventually people started chiming in while I silently chided myself for opening my mouth. but as the night wore on, i was finding myself increasingly struck by the candidness with which the people in this group were sharing from.  the conversation slowly evolved from the host topic and started straying to a more personal level for the people of the group, as they shared from more honest and more “real” places than many of the “bubble gum” church experiences i had experienced so much in my life.  i found myself occasionally offering small tidbits of advice to people in some of the real life experiences that they had presented.  i sensed that many of the group was relatively new in their faith, as compared to someone like me who had been wrestling with belief since as far back as i can remember (this is not to say that these individuals hadn’t also, but this is merely a feeling I got from the atmosphere in the moment).  my state of mind began to change during the night from one of “i should stay out of the way so that i don’t lead someone from their own path,” to a mentality of “i recognize many of these themes and have dealt with them long, long ago. i can help,” and so i began re-entering the conversation.  soon sam and i were actually helping create makeshift “game plans” for how to approach some of the issues that were being presented by individuals in the group.

there were 2 people who were particularly striking within the group, and i hope they don’t mind me chronicling any of this in the blog.  for their privacy, i’ve tried to remain as vague on the subject matter of the conversation, but if not for these two and their soul-baring honesty within the conversation, i probably would not have even opened my mouth the entire night, save for the occasional social nicety.  one of these two was named elze.  elze had a delicate but confident nature about her.  She was from south africa (so many south africans I met in Amsterdam!), and she had been working as an auditor of some type for some company that she had been somewhat bored with for awhile, but was excited about a new opportunity she was starting the following week.  elze is one of those people who is very intelligent and probably very good at what she does, but she doesn’t feel the need to parade that around to everyone’s attention, which made me like her immediately (i’m not always good at that.  sometimes I’m too eager to please others, so i pointlessly brag about something to prove myself.  it’s stupid).  she was also interested in stocks and investing, which is something i’ve been interested in for about a year, so we talked shop a little about that and shared info on some companies to check out.

the other person was named esther-hanna.  esther-hanna has one of the coolest jobs of anyone i know.  a year ago, she and one of her friends started their own business in amsterdam where they take tourists on local street food tours with tiny locations that an out-of-towner would definitely not find.  i was so intrigued by her profession that i immediately had started talking with her during the early part of the night about the food tours (i’m a foodie, i couldn’t help it), and we hadn’t really talked about her at all.  so i was taken aback when later she began sharing so openly with such a large group of people and a stranger present among them.  esther-hanna has a piercing gaze that seems to look straight into your soul, but instead of this being an intimidating thing, if you are paying attention you notice that she, too, is allowing you to look into her soul.  it is so refreshing and unique, but also can be off-putting if you’re not ready for it, because most people in this world don’t operate with that level of intimacy in conversation.  needless to say, I live for these types of interactions.

at the end of the night, there wasn’t a single person in the group that I wasn’t impressed with, and this doesn’t usually happen to me.  My cynical self usually finds a way to discount something within gatherings like these or the individuals within them.  But every person at this dinner was beautiful in their own unique way, and I appreciate my presence even having been tolerated.  I didn’t have any grand spiritual realizations, none of my questions about life and the universe and spirituality answered, in fact I still find myself in the same place as I was when I was chopping potatoes only hours earlier.  But I think the experience did assuage a little of the apprehension and mistrust I often have toward organized religions and subsequent gatherings.  I’m glad I took part, and I thank the group all humbly in retrospect.


today’s song is a new instrumental piece from Odesza, an EDM duo from the US.  only clocking in at 2:15, this seemingly inconsequential track is actually the most interesting of a top-to-bottom solid album.  for those of you who are not fans of electronic dance music, give this album a spin.  it breaks away from the often repetitive obnoxious formula that seems to define edm these days by keeping fun off-beat rhythms mixed with chopped up vocal melodies and subtle supporting layers of unexpected dreamy pop sounds, all without being afraid of slowing the beat down and getting quiet at times.  this is crucial for grown-ups like me who don’t want a neck-ache the morning after listening to my music.  i’ve been listening to this album for about a month now and i have yet to get sick of a single song.  enjoy…

we are all a van gogh

over the next few days, I was left to my own devices while all the working folk attended to their day jobs.  and by “own devices,” I really mean that I was sleeping in til noon and then trying to figure out how to do something with my day so that I didn’t feel like a waste of a human that evening when sam or jenna got home and inevitably asked me “so what’d ya do today?!”

night watch
rembrandt’s “night watch”

I made sure I went and saw the rijks museum, named after the brilliant and famous rembrandt.  A massive place with lots to see, I budgeted about 3 hours but could only handle about 2, as I often start getting claustrophobic or severely annoyed when I’m around museum tourists too long.  Or just people.  People in general can really chap my ass too.  After finally making my way to rembrandt’s “night watch” masterpiece, I made a quick double check to make sure I hadn’t missed anything of grave importance and then quickly got the hell out of there.  (it’s a great museum though, and I do recommend it for anyone out there looking for a useful way to kill a few hours taking in fine art.  Don’t take my cantankerousness to suggest otherwise)

I exited out the museum into the beautiful park that lay just behind it.  It was a very nice day out. The plan on the day had been to double down on museums and hit the van gogh building once I was done with the rijks, but now I wasn’t sure if I could stomach another couple hours of jockeying with idiots squaring up their cameras to take a photo of a piece of art they could easily google later at home to point to and say “look, I saw this!”   I seriously don’t get it.  Also, one of my biggest gnaw-at-the-inside-of-my-brain-as-i-slowly-lose-my-sanity things in life is when people are completely oblivious to what’s going on around them.  I call these people “Darwin defiers,” and museums seem to be a safe haven for them.  This is how they defy Darwin.  Because if they weren’t all hiding in museums all the time, they would have all been hit by buses or eaten by bears in the real world by now and we wouldn’t have to complain about them in blogs.

Anyway, travel guilt eventually got the best of me and I got up from my seat in the green grass in the park and forced myself to go sprint thru the van gogh museum so that I wouldn’t feel guilty about it later.  I walked around the corner and entered the museum.

The van gogh museum is the coolest museum I’ve ever been in.

I’ve never really been a big visual art kinda guy, as it relates to painting and drawing.  I get it.  I know why other people are, but I just really haven’t been struck by a painting before and been moved emotionally as I often am with music or film.  It just doesn’t speak to me on my wavelength.  I don’t know if that’s an ignorance thing or a generational thing, but it’s something.

The van gogh museum, for the most part, is arranged in a 4 story upwards funnel where you circle around a floor and then walk up to the next and repeat, with each floor representing a season of van gogh’s work in a chronological fashion.  this provides a very intricate and I think unprecedented window into a truly genius mind.

There is a theory out there, popularized in recent years by Malcolm Gladwell in his book “the tipping point,” also referenced by Macklemore in one of his songs, that claims that you need about 10,000 hours at something in order to truly master it. And when I say “master,” I mean you have arrived at a point in whatever you are doing where you are completely in control of what you are doing, you need no assistance, you are creating, and at this point, people may start to refer to you as “a genius.”  Think bill gates programming, miles davis playing jazz, bo Jackson playing sports, Donald trump being an asshole… you know, those levels of greatness.

And this is what is crazy to me about Vincent van gogh.  There’s almost no way that he put in 10,000 hours before he became a genius and posthumously stamped his place in the art world over the next 200 years, becoming an icon and a part of every art history book on the planet.  The man  had never studied art and didn’t decide to paint until he was 27.  27. He also spent his 1st two years learning about other styles and studying the craft before venturing down his own creative path.  And he did this with absolutely no success the entire time.  Nobody would buy his paintings. No one paid any attention to him.  The only person that believed in him was his brother, who funded vincent’s work and often housed him when nothing else was falling into place for him.  And then he killed himself at 34.

First of all, it takes huge balls to just walk away from whatever it is that you’re doing at 27, especially at a time when that very well may be more than 50% of your life that has passed (life expectancy is much longer now than it was in the 1800s), even if you weren’t doing anything cool before.  And then to go do “art?”    ummmm, wat?

most guys don’t need much in life.  They want a girl to think they are awesome, they want to get laid from time to time from said girl who thinks they are awesome, they want to watch sports and drink beer, and they want to be at least marginally good at one or two things that make them happy and that other people appreciate.  And they also want a couple buddies to do these things with or talk about them with while drinking said beers.

So for Vincent van gogh to decide halfway into his perceived adulthood “yeah, now I’m gonna paint!”  to me is beyond comprehension. It’s like when a wealthy family sends their son to Harvard to be a lawyer and he then tells them that he has decided to major in philosophy.  Those thanksgivings are never fun.

Anyway, back to van gogh. He struggled and failed mightily, making no money, not even being able to sell his paintings in what I would compare to modern day flea markets, but worked tirelessly to hone his craft and shape his own style. And he was very prolific, painting more and more the better he got.  Eventually, in the last 6 months of his life, he was churning out a painting a day, and these are all now considered priceless masterpieces.  In fact, the style he is famous for, the impressionist style with the magnificent colors and the blurry, dreamy style that we know him for didn’t really start rounding into form until his last 2 years.  That’s how patiently devoted he was.

These impressions slowly made their way onto me as I slowly navigated my way from floor to floor, watching the styles evolve and trying to put myself where Vincent was during each period of his life.  I started to realize that i identify with him, in many ways. It was a weird feeling for me, as I always thought historic art was kinda boring stuff. Stuff you were forced to learn in high school in college as filler, that would never have an impact on your life.  But here I was.  And finally, I got to the section of the museum where he really came into his own.  His paintings were declaratively showing themselves to the world, as if to say “this is what I am doing and I don’t care if the rest of you tell me that this shit,” each work was a statement.

And then I had my first real “art moment.”  It was similar to my moment before in the airport.  I came upon one of his self portraits.  Van gogh used to paint himself because he couldn’t afford to pay models to sit in for him (these days you just paint using a picture of something, but remember that this wasn’t something people had back then.  The artist was creating the picture).  I stared into his eyes and I felt like I could see his soul.  I could see the hope, I could see the pain, I could see the determination, I could see the futility.  I could see it all.  I took a step back and had to take a deep breath.  My eyes were watering a little.  The greens and blues, yellows and oranges were screaming at me and I couldn’t process them.  I must have stood in front of that painting for at least 10 minutes before moving on, completely hypnotized.

“tree roots” – van gogh’s final painting

I looked to the left, searching for the next work of art to move on to and admire, but there was nothing there.  A few feet further was a giftshop.  The exhibit was over, the collection complete.  I felt cheated.  I was only just now starting to understand him, understand art, and he was gone, leaving nothing behind him but a trail of beautiful breadcrumbs that slowly told his story without needing so much as a word. Just these simple paintings.



I find encouragement in his story.  Not in the part how he died.  How he slowly deteriorated mentally, tormented by his seeming failures and whatever else was going on in his life, eventually taking his own life by shooting himself in the chest and bleeding out for the next two days under his brother’s care.  That’s the tragic part.  The encouraging part isn’t even what it is that Vincent van gogh accomplished with the volume of his work.  The encouraging part is that he stood up and decided to change what he was doing with his life.  He found a purpose, even if it made sense to no one else.  And he didn’t just become amazing.  He studied.  He worked at it.  He vigorously trained and committed and struggled. But eventually, he was amazing.

It’s encouraging because I think there is a little van gogh in us all.  We all have the ability to do something amazing, we just have to realize our potential, and then chase it down.  Whether that is being a devoted husband or father, or mother or wife, starting your own business, writing a novel or a song, or just realizing that you’re in the wrong career and quitting to go travel the world.  Everyone’s life deserves something amazing in it, but it’s up to you to go find it.


today’s song is from the new shakey graves album that just came out last week, “and the war came.”  solid album from top to bottom, this guy was already getting really hyped from his sxsw performance this year, he will undoubtedly blow up the radio and the internet for the next year.  enjoy the song, it’s the lead track from the album…

canal boats, dad jokes, and an expat gathering, part 2

…a few hours later we were back on the bikes again.  a quick 5 minute ride over to a friend’s house for a dinner party.  I made sure I wore the only collared shirt that I currently have, as I didn’t want to make a bad impression on sam & jenna, because apparently most of their friend group would be here tonight.  I put forward my best “friendly face” (many of you know that isn’t always easy for me…) and ascended the stairs to the dinner party.

at first, I really just wanted to observe the scene.  there were a lot of big personalities here and I didn’t really want to offset the balance.  I often consider myself a bit of a chameleon socially;  I can become whatever the conversation is lacking.  If there’s no firestarter, I can be the one who gets things going, if there’s no funny guy, I can tell the jokes, if there is no quiet contemplative listener, I can shut my mouth.  so I was waiting for my self-designated role assignment when I realized that this group really had balance.  everyone in the group was smart, witty, funny and fun. they all had different perspectives and opinions that were never horribly off-base by any means.  ahh screw it, I thought, just jump.table 1

the person i immediately got along with most easily was one half of the evening’s hosts, mark.  he and his wife marije have a wonderful, spacious place on the top floor of a really badass building with a rooftop patio that overlooks the city and, you guessed it, a canal.  I immediately fell in love with their place, but anyone would.

anyway, mark has a larger than life personality with a very perceptive whip to boot.   never one to let an opportunity to laugh go by, he garrulously facilitates any conversation he’s in with a patient energy that provides a wide open landscape where one need not worry they’ve overstepped their boundary

pierre hams it up while mark is engaged in other conversation
pierre hams it up while mark is engaged in other conversation

with a topic, but you better believe that if you speak arrogantly or incorrectly he will call you on it.  Just my kinda guy.  mark is actually an american expat who is a successful entrepreneur/venture capitalist with a very shrewd business sense.  Not much gets by him.

His wife marije perfectly compliments him.  She has a slightly more delicate nature about her and a very subtle (at first) sense of humor.  You don’t see it right away, but eventually you can tell she’s paying attention, waiting.  Being the only real native dutch person in the group, and if I’m being perfectly honest, I really just thought she kind of quiet at first.  But then right when I thought I had her figured out, she drops a hilarious joke in mid conversation that immediately got everyone’s attention in the party and had us laughing for what seemed half the night.  Eventually I talked with her a little more, learning that she was extremely well traveled and had lived in quite a few places all over the world, and also had some entrepreneurial ambitions of her own.  She also can COOK.

marije looks on in the background as her delicious appetizers are served
marije looks on in the background as her delicious appetizers are served

Oh my god, I don’t think I will eat as well at any other point on this trip as I did during my time with mark and marije.  she made us a three course meal that culminated in a ugandan stew she learned to cook during some volunteering she did for a few months with a small village down there previously.  when asked, mark modestly shared some stories with me of some of the ways they made a difference with this village, chiefly by purchasing a cow for them which drastically changed the future for these people by stimulating their local economy and food production through dairy and producing more cows, etc.   truly way more ingenious and affective (effective too, I suppose) than donating money or just doing vacation bible school for the kids, like most churches do when they perform “missions work.”

riordan points a finger after a typical mischievous pierre joke
riordan points a finger after a typical mischievous pierre joke

I also met riordan and Justine.   Super fun people, I got to hang out with riordan and chat enthusiastically about the virtues of the gopro camera.  Riordan and justine were also both from south Africa, and he was a surfer.  So he has a much more practical need for a gopro than my nonsensical videos that I produce.  Riordan has a really fun energy with a great appreciation for laughter as well.  He has the ability to go on tangential jokes where you can just take a scenario with him and he’ll play it out with you til it gets to its most ridiculous point.  We had a couple good laughs on the rooftop of the house while mark barbecued.

pierre was also there (whom you know from the previous post on the boat canal ride), but there was also charlotte, yet another south African who shared some stories with me about Budapest when I mentioned I was thinking about going there.  She got really excited and then told me she had some transit coins that I could use when I go there.  She made a note to bring them to me before I left Amsterdam, which was very kind, considering she had only just met me.  We also

charlotte tells a story while justine and riordan listen intently
charlotte tells a story while justine and riordan listen intently

chatted a little about how she had spent some time living down in Houston, texas.  It had been awhile since she had been there, and unfortunately I’d only been there once for a wedding last year, so really all I could joke about was how hot it was down there.

But overall, I was struck by how open this group really was.  None of these people had known each other before Amsterdam and now here they were, sharing food at a house together, not bothered in the least that a stranger was amongst them.  I drifted along with the ebb and flow of the conversations listening to the stories, enjoying the laughter, trying to soak in each person as they spoke.  eventually the boys escaped to the rooftop for drinks and cigars and stories of ridiculousness, while the ladies stayed down inside and most likely talked about much more civilized, classy things.

the dam crewEventually the night had wandered off into the dark, and people began heading back to their own homes.  We thanked mark and marije graciously and headed back to sam & jenna’s, surrendering for the evening.


staying with the theme from the previous post, we’re staying with the barr brothers.  if the first track i posted hasn’t convinced you, this one will.  enjoy…

canal boats, dad jokes, and an expat gathering, part 1

the next morning I awoke to an eager sam & jenna.  they were ready to go already.  they had a surprise.  we headed for a local grocery and picked up some juice and fruits, some fresh bread, a few deli meats, tomatoes, lettuce, and mustard.  never forget the mustard.  groceries into the carriage box on the front of jenna’s tank of a bicycle (this thing doesn’t need a bell on it because you can hear it coming from a mile away), and we were on our way again.  10 minutes later we pulled up to a little dock, locked up the bikes and stepped out onto the water.  we had rented a canal boat for the morning.

glassy canals in amsterdamone of sam & jenna’s friends, pierre joined us after a couple minutes and then we were on our way.  we cruised around, lazily motoring up one canal and down the next, watching the maze of moored boats tied to the canal walls drift by, admiring the diversity of style among them all.  pierre, sharing my enthusiasm for capturing the moment on film, joined me in obsessively snapping photo after photo as we made our way along.  the sunshine was perfect with nary a cloud above, providing ample opportunity for viewing and exploring.  eventually I put down the camera and decided to just enjoy the moment.  I swung an arm out and hooked it over the side of the boat and took a deep breath.  I didn’t really ever want to exhale.

smiles on the seaafter a couple hours we returned the boat and stopped at a cool little bar in the area that sits right out over the water called “mata hari.”  instead of a parking lot for cars, this place has about 5 spots where boats can pull up and get a beer.  well, the passengers can, I’m not really sure why a boat would be drinking beer.

and I’ve just worked my first “dad joke” into a post.  check that one off the list.

as we sat on the comfortable patio furniture, I got to know pierre a little better.  A soft spoken gent from south africa, pierre managed some sort of logistics or something or other for a company here in amsterdam.  he had a gentle approach toward conversation, never needing to be the dominant personality and always patient to hear what you were saying.  as the day wore on he became more comfortable with me, I could see his sense of humor slowly making its way out as he got more and more goofy and enjoyable.  I could also sense that he was loosening up a little throughout the day because he was actually going on his own vacation the following day to greece.  I expressed my jealousy.

after the, we parted ways with pierre and planned to meet up with friends later over dinner.


today’s audio gem is from my favorite band right now:  the barr brothers.  their new album, “sleeping operator” just came out yesterday and it is a solid album, top to bottom.  their first album is also incredibly underrated and i highly recommend it as well.  they’ve got a great rootsy americana sound, complete with slide guitars and mandolins and rusty background sounds, accompanied by thoughtful lyrics and catchy melodies.  enjoy…

welcome to amsterdam: land of low-key

After my quick jaunt of londontown, I hopped on a quick flight (quickest flight ever.  $55usd got me there in less than an hour on easyjet.com, compared to a 3 hour train ride for 180 euros. That’s a head scratcher) to Amsterdam to see my great friends sam & jenna.

I really didn’t know what to expect from Amsterdam.  Depending on who you’re talking to, it’s either a cultural icon that has produced 2 separate generations of groundbreaking visionary painters, as well as generations upon generations’ worth of knowledge and expertise on the topic of water engineering (seriously, the dutch were called upon by new Orleans for help to set up a better system after katrina.  Venice has also been ringing them in recent years for help with how to save their city), and a general sense of incredible business efficiency orrrrrr… they are a haven for those who are prone to all manner of sinful vice, like legal prostitution or legal marijuana, and just a general attitude of apathy toward how someone wants to live their life, making it perfect for someone who wants to pursue somewhat questionable moral behavior.

And there’s also the canals.  And the bicycles.  We’ll get to those in a minute.

My plane landed almost before I could even get comfortable on the flight.  I had zero chance to write (which is why there was a good week or so of silence on the blog. Sorry fans – all 3 of you who read this, including my mom and dad).  I breezed through customs and waiting right in the sunlight were my friends sam & jenna, looking just as fashionable as they always do.  Jenna with a sweet smile and a big hug waiting, and sam with a wry grin that almost makes you think he knows something he’s not telling you.  It had been almost 2 years to the day since they left Denver in a whirl, leaving almost before anyone had noticed when sam had jumped at a chance to work in Europe. They handed me a metro card and we hopped on a train.

i amsterdam I met jenna in my orientation group in college.  We went to a very small private Christian university in Arkansas called john brown university, and their orientation was obnoxiously like summer camp for church youth groups all across the US.  Don’t get me wrong, I really did enjoy the weird relay race games that included hula hoops and potato sacks and team cheers, but I also really wanted to think that I had finally broken free from my childhood and was now a “man,” and men don’t play childish games.  I also really wanted to look cool for the new college chicks I was meeting, and a “man” couldn’t possibly be bothered with such silly games.  I had a lot to learn.

Anyway, jenna and one other girl named Emily were the only cool people I really identified with in my orientation group, and we would remain acquaintances for awhile until a year later when sam would arrive, sweeping jenna off her feet and simultaneously removing a preciously sought commodity from the jbu dating scene.  Sam and I became fast friends when, according to multiple sources, I was apparently a bit of an intimidating character for all the RA’s at the jbu dorms, and the only person who was a regular “prayer request” item without an actual reason.  I guess I was a bit of a dick in those days.  Except sam got it.  From day one.  I was a caricature.  My behavior was a filtering mechanism for who I should and shouldn’t spend time on/with, and sam never batted an eye.  He could always reply with a quick retort, usually faster than I could even think what my next quip would be.  He’s probably better at the game than I am. Anyway, he was never intimidated by me and we got along famously, always on the same intramural sports teams, always down to sit around and shoot the shit.  Sam’s “in tune” and so is jenna.

Sam and jenna both have very strong business minds and would continually bail me out of anything that involved an accounting or finance exam or project, while I could usually be counted on to show up for a presentation of some sort and rock it with nearly no preparation.  I’m not sure if I should be bragging about that.

Sam & jenna were also two of the people who really helped me get thru some of my tough times when I moved to Denver and things didn’t really pan out for me the way I had hoped.  We played for a couple years on a competitive volleyball team (along with another close friend, leah) that would really be a therapeutic outlet for me.

They also have one of those really balanced relationships where both parties truly seek out the other, both challenging and helping in ways that just wouldn’t be possible for one to be as great without its counterpart. Suffice it to say that they truly are incredible people and I could never say enough about how I look up to them.

Anyway, sorry, you want to hear about Amsterdam, not some sappy love affair among two jerks living out a daily romantic fantasy in Europe.

We wasted no time at all.  As we pulled away on the metro, I noticed a tri-level parking structure thingy for thousands – literally thousands – of bicycles.  I’ve never seen so many in my life.  Until the tram pulled into sam and jenna’s neighborhood.  I stepped off the train and immediately almost lost my life to a gaggle of ruthless bicyclists barreling their way down the street to some life-or-death situation which I’m sure demanded their ability to run anyone off the road in their pursuit of whatever crime they were trying to stop or baby they needed to save from a burning house.  I quickly forgave them with a few choice phrases under my breath and followed my friends to their place.

The modest apartment boasts a fantastic top level view over a beautiful canal intersection with a nice hotel across the street with a patio across the way, providing a scenic backdrop that one might only see in dreams if they never ventured out.  I really didn’t have time to enjoy the view, however, as sam tossed me a set of keys to the apartment and beckoned me come follow him and the wife to go see my wheels for the next couple days.  We hopped on bikes and headed out

sam & jenna didn’t let me become intimidated by the biking system in the dam, they simply forced me into it immediately.  Luckily I had them to follow around, because I was a little on sensory overload trying to figure out when to go, when to stop, who had the right of way, when to watch for a train, when to watch for pedestrians, when to not ride straight into a canal (well, you should probably avoid that at all times, really).

But seriously, I think this is something that people are unaware of.  I knew people rode bikes here, but I didn’t realize how dominant it is as a transport system.  EVERYONE bikes here.  It’s inspiring.  Even bike city havens like Portland, Denver, and others in the US can’t even come close to how heavily adopted the dutch are into the biking culture.  And none of the bikes are these flashy contraptions for show that might show off in some fashion.  the bikes in Amsterdam are mainly for function, lest it gets stolen or someone accidentally kicks it into a canal, there’s no pragmatic reason to spend a boatload of cash on a bike so people just keep it straightforward.  in fact, if there’s a word i’d choose to describe the dutch in my experience, it’s just that:  pragmatic.

We arrived at a tiny cocktail bar that only fit a max of 12 (my estimate) people and had been in the family for over 7 or 8 generations called “the doctor” (or T’doktor, locally)  Seriously, this place is awesome.  I have no pictures of this place, you’ll just have to take my word for it.  Great cocktails, and the guy who runs it is this old man who is retired and does it for fun.  He makes time to talk to his local patrons, so when sam and jenna arrived, he came over to chat for about 5 minutes before shuffling on to his other guests.  We then headed over to some pizza place for a pie and some beers, and then eventually also went to “Winkel 43” (which just means “store 43.”  remember what i said about pragmatism?)  for some delectable apple pie, as jenna knows I never say “no” to dessert.

On our way home, the night air was crisp but not cold as we glided thru it, around tight turns down narrow cobblestone streets and up arched bridges over reflective canals, bouncing the moon’s light off the water and back up onto the old buildings around us.  Just before we reached the apartment, I had a sudden pronounced inkling that I was really going to like this place.


this week for your musical arrangement, we have an obvious selection from Wilco frontman Jeff Tweedy’s new side project with his son on drums, “Tweedy.”   i love this song, and the recently produced music video directed by nick offerman is both quirky and hilarious.  listen to this whole album, it is excellent.  aptly titled “low key” for this blog post (okay, it’s the other way around), enjoy…