Oh what a difference a week makes. From the freezing Brighton beach we went to summery sunny days in London. We've been having a great time exploring this new home town of ours that seems to have finally woken up from its slumber and my allergies are finally acting up. I'm not complaining. Just expressing myself is all. Hope it's sunny wherever you are, dear reader - enjoy!
As perhaps you've seen on Instagram (I am obsessed with Instagram so much, it's like my new best friend), Jochem and I were in Brighton last weekend! I booked an AirBnB for Jochem's birthday as a surprise, but I messed up and totally told him beforehand. I also got him a toaster, though, which he totally didn't expect, so at least there was that element of surprise.
The weather was absolutely terrible, but we still managed to have a very nice time, and it was great for me to see a bit more of this country we moved to, as I'm ashamed to say this was the first time outside of London for me. Shaaame.
People ask me about what living in London is like and I'm like 'normal, I guess?'. Yes, everything is expensive and I feel like we've reverted back to graduate school standards where it comes to housing and budgets (, but other than that - we're enjoying it. It's normal, even, in a good way. I enjoy being at home and living my little life here. A large part of that might be that we've actually not been home very much this past month - being home doesn't get boring that way. The title says it all. Ski in Switzerland, work in New York, present in Belgium, and hang out in Holland. Tough times and I haven't done a whole lot of drawing during most of it, but I did some here and there and I thought I'd share. Which almost rhymes. Oh, and I turned 31 last week. Yayzers! Enjoy, peeps.
When I was home sick this week, I finally caught up on reading through my stack of Frankie Magazines (so love that magazine) and came across a hilarious article on how at some point in your late twenties, early thirties, all your friends turn into couples and you all of a sudden find yourself attending dinner parties where all people talk about is mortgages and appliances. My friends are pretty awesome so they also talk about other things (although it has been suggested to me more than once that I get food processor X or mixer Y instead of my 5 Euro supermarket version which I happened to think was pretty grown up already), but it is true in a sense. Adult life can be very boring. Full of chores and boomerang errands where you take care of something, only for it to be followed up by another errand. Have I told you that joke about how the internet was supposed to be installed in my place this week? Oh yeah, they didn't show.
These journal pages are not about any of this, I just felt like stating the obvious above. Also, I was reminded of it because I felt like a real grown up when my new bank cards arrived in the mail. Yay. Bank cards! Bureaucratic hurdle number one has been taken!
Usually, my emotions present themselves right on cue. I bawled my eyes out during my brother's wedding, jumped up and down squealing when I heard I got the job I really wanted, and my voice cracked just the right amount when I read a goodbye letter to my grandpa at his funeral (I could still speak, fortunately). Me and my emotions are like BFFs - we're in touch.
These last few weeks, however, I've just been making other people cry. There were goodbye parties, dinners, meetings, and people have hugged me and expressed their sadness over this mythical event that apparently is happening in four days from now: our permanent move to London. It hits me, sometimes, in a combination of mild panic and excitement, but mostly I'm a little weirded out. Working towards a date on the calendar when this abstract thing will happen to us and our lives will change.
My scanner will be on a truck in two days, so I'm not sure when I'll post next, but follow me on Instagram in the mean time if you're curious as to when those flood gates finally open. Dramatic smudged-mascara-airport-selfies anyone?
In exactly one month, a big truck will pull up to our house, and all of our belongings will be taken away by strong men with boxes. At least, that's how I picture it will go. Because, we found a house in London!
We did a quick trip to London end of October to do some house hunting. Which was exactly as horrid as you would imagine - apartments in London are expensive, tiny, and ugly. At least the first 8 apartments we saw were like that, and some of the more promising ones were taken off the market right as our relocation officer drove us around town to get there. We went through the ghetto and back, to closet-sized apartments on shmansy streets, and waited around for real estate agents who in the end turned out not to have the key to apartments we were eager to look at.
We were about to give up - talking of plans for another round of searching, possibly staying somewhere temporarily for a while, perhaps even looking at completely different neighborhoods, when we visited 'our' apartment.
Bright, not too tiny (still small), cute mixed neighborhood, right near a 'tube' station, perfect. We put a bid out almost immediately. Yes, a bid. I had never heard of it either, but apparently tenants can outbid each other until you put a crazy fee down (which we did).
Fortunately, the bid was accepted after much back and forth, and we spent the next day walking around our new home town and eating Turkish food near our future place. That was probably the last time we'll ever be able to go out to dinner as we'll be poor from the minute we arrive in London, so I'm glad to inform you it involved a very, ehm, motivated belly dancer.
As soon as we got back to Utrecht, we started sorting out our belongings. The new place is about half of the size of our current apartment (and about 2 times as expensive, so it works out in a strange, messed-up way), so we can't bring all of our stuff along. It's a great way to get rid of the junk we've been collecting and haven't looked at for years (college notebooks anyone?), but there also won't be room for some of the good stuff, like my drawing table or any of my studio equipment.
Fortunately, there wasn't much time to mourn our earthly possessions, as we boarded another airplane on our way to Lisbon, Portugal! I'd booked this trip a while back as a surprise for Jochem. Totally irresponsible, of course, and looking at it in hindsight we should have saved our precious Euros, but it was a welcome distraction. Sunny, beautiful, delicious, and relaxing.
The week after, I got a new tattoo! I had decided on the design a while ago and had booked my appointment a few weeks ago, but I was still nervous because that stuff hurts like a mother. I lived, though, and although the tattoo right now is looking scabby and itches badly, it turned out real nice.
Last week, it was back to normal life. Taxes, bills, scary movies. The usual.
But not before I took one more trip to London to attend a few meetings. I decided to fly in in the morning and fly out the same evening, which sounded like a good plan. Until I had to get up at 4 am to catch my 7 am flight. Fun times, but all the meetings went really well, and at least I won't have any trouble sleeping this week.
And then it was today and I'm drinking coffee and reading John Steinbeck before I get started on my work for the day. So. Bye then!
It's been a while since I've posted some journal pages, but rest assured it was with good reason. I was hanging out in good ol' 'Muricah again with some amazing colleagues. But not before I got kind of sick and tired. Not of something. Just a little sick and mostly tired. And paranoid.
Fortunately, I had some great in-flight entertainment to cheer me up during my flight.
I had a day 'off' before work started, and I did some sketching outside in Central Park and the American Museum of Natural History. I also cried during the show on dark matter in the planetarium. Because everything's awesome and big an amazing and people are so smart and I'm a role model to all the 3 year olds who were also crying (probably because they were afraid of the dark). You can be 30 and cry in the planetarium and that's cool because when you're 30 you've got a credit card and you can buy awesome shit in the nerdy gift shop afterwards to make yourself feel better. I bought this hologram thing for Jochem and it's awesome.
The day after, I met up with a colleague to catch a train to Hudson, in upstate New York for a very inspiring offsite event. The days were pretty busy and social, so I didn't do much drawing but I loved Hudson. It's a weird little town, with long streets of colorful wooden houses, great little coffeeshops, and weird backstreets. The train ride up was amazing, too. Upstate New York in the fall is famous for a reason.
The last few days of the week I spent working in the Brooklyn office, more hanging out with colleagues, and maaaaybe some shopping. Also: drawing, of course. I've been so obsessed with drawing houses, lately.
And then I flew back home and slept for five years. Next up: our London house hunting trip! Eek!
September wasn't great, I'm not going to lie. Lots of little things just kept piling on until I could feel stress bunching up not just in my shoulders and neck, but creeping into my toes and fingers. Turns out you can turn 30 and learn a lot about how not to deal with tension, but somehow forget (or actively ignore) ways to release it in a healthy way. Fortunately, you can always count on some Jehova's witnesses to ring your doorbell when the hour is most tense - reminding you to just shut that door and cuddle a cat instead.
This weekend I had another breakdown after we found out some of our winter coats and books had grown some additional fur in the form of mold. My colleague says this house is just bad luck and I'm starting to believe her. Instead of throwing myself a weekend long pity-party as would have been absolutely appropriate I think, I went to the art supply store and got myself some fresh inks, illustrated by exhibit A below.
I remembered this story because that same colleague - I'll just say her name: Ingrid - recently tried to get rid of one of her very own fingertips. I remember this incident very clearly. I felt so sorry for my mom for obviously having the IQ of a doorknob. Fingers clearly look nothing like grass, you poor lady!
Hope you're all having a great start of October so far and I'll be back soon, I promise. Fun updates ahead!
Last weekend I went to Brussels to visit friends for the first time in almost a year. I hadn't been to the city because somehow I just couldn't deal with it emotionally, but now I felt ready and eager to see my friends, colleagues, and the city again. I almost cried of joy, walking out of the station. Which is surprising, because Brussels train stations smell like piss, mostly. Piss and waffles, to be exact. But you know me, I am nothing if not a little dramatic at times - and drama I would get.
After dinner and drinks, my friends and I were having one last drink. I went to the bathroom for a minute, came back, and my backpack was gone. With everything in it. Money, passport, phone, laptop, creditcards, ipod, books, sunglasses, my favorite clothes, makeup, medication, tickets, art supplies, and my journal. This journal.
After hours and hours of waiting and finally being able to leave a statement at the police station, I went to spend the night at my friend D's house. It's a crazy feeling to have nothing on you but the clothes on your back. If you're expecting me to say it felt 'liberating' - wrong blog, dude. I felt absolutely lost and emotional about someone else touching MY stuff with their dirty hands. I told you it would get dramatic.
Fortunately I watched a lot of Disney when I was little and this story ends well, with a knight in shining armor and fruit smoothies.
When Jochem came to pick me up the next day (he drove all the way down here), he had good news: the police had called him to tell him they had found most of my personal belongings in a little park next to the police station, a few blocks from where my backpack had been stolen. Those personal belongings included my journal! We went out for smoothies to celebrate, drove home, and I collapsed and lived happily ever after.
The End.
I've been feeling better (my flu has a great work ethos and only grabs me on weekends and holidays) and I have been traveling for work quite a lot. It's been busy but good. There are a lot of moments in my life right now where I take a big breath in and feel insanely happy and blessed to be where I am at. My life is made out of pretty amazing stuff and I'm enjoying every bit of it.
It's been full on fall here in Holland this week and fall means flu and phlegm. I know, I know. You live for these kinds of blog posts. Fortunately, over-sharing is my middle name. Also, that's how Mr. Floor got the flu. We're like communists, sharing everything even if it makes no sense and it takes away your will to live.
In any case, these were again done in watercolors and Copic markers and I had real trouble getting the colors just right, but I just couldn't be bothered.
Keeping an illustrated travel journal of your journey can be incredibly rewarding and romantic. It is an amazing souvenir and the process of creating will help you be more attentive to the little things and big sights you'll see on your trip. You'll remember and appreciate everything around you that much more.
It can also be hard and annoying. Why would you spend all this time drawing and sitting around when there's so much to do and see? Why carry around a notebook and paints and pens, when you can just bring your phone and take a quick snapshot?
Good point and this is why I believe in having a good travel-ready journal kit with you wherever you go.
My Travel Journal Kit
- a set of Caran d'Ache gouaches
- a small box of Winsor & Newton watercolors with a small brush
- my journal (I currently use an A5 cloth-bound hardcover journal from Seawhite of Brighton)
- some watercolor postcards (most brilliant invention ever) from CASS art
- a few Bic mechanical pencils (those cheap, plastic ones)
- Micron pens (I prefer the 0.5 width)
- a tiny plastic bottle of water (33 cl). We got this one from an airline, I drank the fancy water and refilled it.
The kit fitted comfortably in my small backpack and weighed next to nothing.
Top Travel Journal Tips
- Draw a little every day - and don't forget to bring your kit! It'll help you to quickly get into a habit of observing the world around you more closely.
- Take your time and make sure your travel companion knows what he or she is in for! Nothing is worse than feeling rushed when you feel like drawing, so discuss this in advance. Jochem usually brings a book to read (or occasionally joins me by doing some drawing or writing of his own!), but you can also just agree to meet each other again in an hour or so. Finding a comfortable drawing spot on a terrace of a wine bar usually helps, too.
- Just pick something to draw, anything. In the picture above I'm drawing one small part of a gorgeous old Roman ruin. It had much better parts and the view of the ocean on the other side was no doubt better as well, but I picked this bit of wall because, well, there was a bench in front of it and there weren't a million tourists around taking selfies. Looking back at the postcard I drew there, I remember the whole place, not just the wall, so mission accomplished, I think.
- Write down in your journal what you did that day if you really didn't have time to draw (or just didn't feel like it). It'll help you remember - plus it'll make your trip seem that much longer.
- Be flexible. Sometimes it works out, sometimes it doesn't. And always bring along a headlamp when you go camping in a tiny dark little tent and you want to be artistic after sundown. You sexy thang!
Need More?
I made a little zine about how to keep a journal on the road. It's not huge, but it's got some good tips and fun illustrations! You can buy it here, in my Etsy shop.
Because I love paying my bills and I did not throw a tantrum like a two year old, like, at all.
Buongiorno, folks!
How is everyone? I hope you're all magnificent! We just came back from our delicious Italian adventure (gelato! pasta! pesto! gelato!) and you'll be glad to know I spent a lot of time drawing this trip.
The drive to Italy is quite long, so we decided to stop over in Annecy, France on our way there. The weather was terrible, but Annecy is a lovely little town and I definitely want to come back for a weekend and explore it further. Next day we set up camp in Tellaro, Italy, on the Gulf of Poets. Sounds so romantic right? I thought so too, until I read this story about Shelley drowning and being eaten by fish before his body was dug up from the sand and burned on the beach in a brain-fizzling fire. This detail was in our guidebook. Wtf, folks. Anyway, our campsite overlooked the Mediterranean and it in fact was quite idyllic.
Our first day in Tellaro, we spent on the 'beach' (mostly rocks) and thought about languages and they way they sound.
The Gulf of Poets is near the Cinque Terre, so we had planned to go there and do some hiking, but once we got to Lerici where we wanted to catch the boat there, the weather had turned dreadful. We turned back and drove to Genua instead. Pretty city, but a little dirty and very busy, so after visiting some palaces and having lunch, we decided to picknick in Portofino for dinner. Portofino is supposedly one of the most picturesque harbors in the world and is dominated by big yachts and tan people in white clothes and loafers. We watched the sun go down behind the multicolored houses while eating ciabatta bread with artichoke and pistache pesto. Heaven.
The sun was back on the 25th and we decided to grab the boat to the Cinque Terre and do some hiking. The Cinque Terre are five adorable little villages on the rugged Italian Riviera. The surrounding area is a Unesco-protected national park, and officially the villages are not reachable by car (although it doesn't seem like this is true any longer). You can tour the villages by boat or train, but you can also walk the journey. Or so we thought. Apparently a flash-flood took out half of the paths a couple years ago and instead of 5 hours, the new trail (which was much steeper and longer) would take almost twice as long. Because we depended on the boat to take us back home before dusk and because my knees were not loving all the steps, we did about 5 hours of the trail (3 out of 5 villages) and did the boat/train route for the rest. It was a sizzling hot day with some amazing views, rewarding mountain tops, and a glass of local wine at the end of it.
Camping just wouldn't be the same without the tent flooding, of course. During the night, our (borrowed) tent gave up the will to live and broke in the heavy rain. Everything was wet and in the morning we evacuated everything in garbage bags and fled to nearby Sarzana, where we walked around, had some coffee, enjoyed the sunshine, and eventually bought a new tent. It was a blessing in disguise, as the new tent was much bigger and so much more comfortable.
Venezia! Jochem had never been, so we had to make a stop here. The city was lovely as ever, but the camp site was terrible. Even though I had been there before and hadn't remembered the camp site as such, it was dirty and swampy and the mosquito's were killing me. I was quite miserable for a little bit, but Venice was worth it.
The camp site was so terrible that for some reason we left a day too early - by accident! We had the whole journey planned out and camp sites reserved everywhere, so our next stop actually wasn't available for the night and we decided to drive towards Verona and see what was available. We ended up staying at a farmhouse (or 'agriculturismo') called Alle Torricelle, which was just amazing. It was just the most gorgeous place, with an impressive 'certified' herb garden. All the snacks and food were home made by the matron of the house, and we were shown around the herb garden by her. Verona was also a pleasant surprise. Such a pretty place and definitely worth a visit.
The last week was spent on Lake Garda where we took three days of windsurfing classes. It was much easier than we anticipated, and so much fun. We also visited some little towns and ancient ruins while there, as the area surrounding Lake Garda is just gorgeous. I didn't do much drawing because we were out on the water all day, and I was working on some watercolor post cards (more on those later).
And then we got home. We did stop over in Strassbourg on our way back, but I didn't do any drawing then either, as I had to get back to work the morning after.
I'm happy that I got to do quite a lot of drawing on this trip. I think usually my trips are a lot shorter and I feel like I would rather spend time doing things than drawing them, but this vacation had a nice mix. I'll write another post on my travel art kit and how to work outside, but in general let me say it was great to draw 'in the moment' more than usual.
Have you been drawing on your trip? Please share, I LOVE travel journals!
See you all in August!
Felt like bustin' out the markers this week, so here's some real color for you, folks! As always, click the images to enlarge the picture and let me know what you think in the comments below!
My first journal page made with the new dip pen (picture here, before coloring picture here). I'm reasonably happy with the result, but MAN learning new things when you're as old as I am is HARD! I feel like I'm ready to retire now.
Yes, this happened. I remember everyone else (my parents, neighbors) was much more upset about the whole thing than I was. I just thought the man was a little cray-cray.
It really was fun, in the end. Both the festival as well as the OCD party.