And it feels like home, and it knocks me out.

Today I was biking towards the church where I am basically every Sunday. And I remembered the lyrics from Newton Faulkners ‘feels like home’: and it feels like home, and it knocks me out. Now I listen to a lot of music, and from a lot of songs I only remember one or two word combinations, even though I have listened to them a thousand times. Sometimes, through a crack in the fabric  of my mind these fragments  come and remind me, of something I didn’t knew I had taken in. Often I have no clue from which song this quote comes. But I take it. Like the bible says: the word is a bread, or something like that. I eat the words, taste them, and realise: this is something I have tasted before, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. It feels like home. Home is one of the strangest and the most beautiful things. throughout our lives we have home, multiple ones, from the past, present or the future. the funny thing about ‘home’ is that you feel it. maybe you do not realise it immediately, but sometimes it hits you: it feels like home. The curious thing is that throughout our lives there are times in between home. Perhaps this is also something we do not truly understand: for instance after moving, or after staying in a place for a long time. The realisation: I cannot rest my head. This is not home for me.

The lyrics of the newton Faulkner song hit me: it feels like home, and it knocks me out. Especially when you realise that not all places ‘feel like home’ finding one, finding or re-finding your family can really ‘hit home’. It is like how apparently Jesus felt about people saw. He was moved: basically turned inside out upside down through something he saw. He was moved to do something: to make it right. The Newton Faulkner song continues:

and feels it like home
And it knocks me out
Just to feel this way
And know I broke out

To know that through all hardship and challenges, moving of life, you have broken out. You have found home, once again. When home is not a starting point, because you have been on the road so long, or because you were trapped in an unfriendly house, knowing that you broke out, you found home it can knock you out in the best way possible.


Spoon society.

The other day I was walking around with my friend trough the city. I showed her ‘the school of life’: it’s like church for the non-religious. Hearing and discussing what life really is all about. Now I have never been to one of the school of life events, so I am no  person to review their work. But, I so often see blogpost about ‘the 5 things you really should be doing to be successful/happy/fulfilled/whatever’ and it is not all bullshit. It is just curious that in a society where everyone is super suspicious of any preacher or comprehensive life-view we do want to read what really makes us tick in a little over 500 words. Of course is it’s not only blogpost but things such as ted talks that in 20 minutes tell you everything you need to know about anything. And yes, I can judge those, cause I view them and read them. I see people say: ‘wow this is so true..’ Every time I read the comment section at ‘wait but why’ I am so surprised that people ‘praise’ a random person who makes illustrations using paint as someone who truly understands life. It is not all wrong but it certainly feels strange to me. as if any of our lives could be summed up in a list of ten things. As if the only thing you need to change your life for the better is read a book, a blog or watch a film. When I told all this to my friend she said. you’re right. but the in the spoon society we live in, we want everything in one bite.

Today I saw the ted talk I’ll post below. The speakers starts ‘if you can teach a monkey how to sing, can you teach a Harvard professor to give a ted lecture’. An eighty year old professor tells someone’s story. He does give some kind of list, but the most important thing is that he tells a story, a story of a life, and how you can change trough what you find in life, if you value it. It has no easy answers. but it is beautiful. And beauty should always be valued.

Perhaps this post is ironic. But that if you read it,  hopefully it is not that you had your hopes high because of some provocative title that made you click and read even though you knew it’s promises were empty. I hope you see something. interesting, and perhaps, take a fork, toss it around a little bit. And see what it tastes like.




Run away to some faraway island

It’s already been two weeks (!) that  I thought that a 30 minute visit to a museum of which I spend 5 minutes looking at the display I had come for, and the rest to sit in the museum restaurant was a good idea. There and back again took me 9 hours. But it was certainly worth it :). The bike, the trains, the walking, the waiting, the sitting  the saying ‘guess where I am’ to my mum. Here are some photos of my wonderful journey to  Museum Kaap Skil @ Texel to see ‘The Dress’.