Life, Parkinson and Everything

It has been a very long time since I have made a painting. In fact, I organized an exhibition about a year ago, just to ged rid of old work and also to avoid being confronted with the fact that I could not paint anymore. Parkinson of course being the partypooper in this story. What happened was that the exhibition was a huge succes and I found out that I could paint after all..again. The surgeon's team and the neurologist must have done a good job when they handled my DBS operation. So, back to work then. That may sound as if I now produce six paintings a day, but I work in a very low gear now. I've had surgery; I am not miraculously healed. There's a difference. Enough of that: let me take you through my process of making a painting. (NL:) Het is lang geleden dat ik een schilderij gemaakt heb. Het is zelfs zo dat ik ongeveer een jaar geleden een expositie heb georganiseerd om van oud werk af te komen en om te voorkomen dat ik geconfronteerd werd met het feit dat ik niet me

  At the legs of the rapidly approaching colossus were large chunks of concrete out of which cut off electricity lines and drainpipes dangled. The concrete disappeared from view when the metal construction tilted forward. For a moment it showed a likeness with an uprooted ficus but as it grew closer it showed a greater similarity with an electricity pylon. 'But wait!' the universe would have thought if only she could. 'Those old-fashioned bolts and rivets, those welds and these arches that were not intended to be strictly functional, I know what it is! That simply is the Eiffel tower, simply...' '-in orbit with the planet Saturn,' somebody would have interrupted the universe, if only that person could and since that person would have to admit that this new location of the Eiffel tower was very odd indeed, he or she or it would keep his or her or its lips thightly shut. Fortunately, such a person simply can't exist and the full credit for all this nonsense wa

Life, Parkinson and everything. But not necessarily in that order. Today I might surprise you with something I've been working on for quite a while. And I might surprise myself with the amount of work I still have to do.                                                                                       The Lost Earth.                                                                                             1: A radio. At just another pretty day in the universe the sound of a radio could be heard through the immensity of space. As far as one could speak of 'a day', it had to be a good one, because the stars and planets, the gas giants and black holes, the starry nabulae and meteorites were floating about fine and dandy. It wouldn't be the first time there was something to be heard in this corner of the milky way. The source of the radio-sounds was not far away. In fact, it was easier to be heard than usual because the cacaphony of signals, broadcasts and all kinds o