A Little Guy, But A Lovely Guy

Feb 4
3 min read

Whoops, I blinked and now it's February 3rd! I thought for a moment I'd missed my usual date but no! I'm still on schedule. This past month has been intense, between my course intensive and the crunch of all the many things I need to complete to get my business up and running.

I have a domain and the skeleton of a website, now, but until the final few things are checked off, I can't actually edit the site, so it's just a picture of a random stock photo man and an About section filled with nothing.

But for those interested, it is www.roekwaren.nl! Things should be up and running next week sometime.

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Spring has already begun to, well, spring in Amsterdam. After the deep cold of early January, the temperatures and precipitation returned to normal winter cold and rain. I've been out and about taking photos of tentative blooms peeking from the earth, and trying to capture the beauty of golden hour in the tree-rich nature areas around me. I wish I had a real camera at my disposal, though I have to say my phone's camera does a great job, too. It feels better to work with lenses to get the shot you want, though, and the auto focus on the phone makes things frustrating. If I find a cheap old Canon I'm snapping it up, haha.

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Last week I wandered around the largest nearby park in search of interesting spots, and was delighted to find a large congregation of the local parakeet population, a dozen or so heron nests, and several murders of crows. Where I was in the States, one usually had to get up at the crack of dawn and travel to natural areas to spy on the local wildlife usually hidden from the hustle and bustle. But these birds are everywhere all the time, and I'm so happy to be able to seek them out and watch them putter any time of day. I've asked a few folks I know if anyone would be interested in a little birding group. We'll see if that idea gains any traction.

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With all the good in experiencing these days, it's hard to hear the pain in my loved ones voices when they talk about what's happening in the US. Since moving out of the States, I've had much more energy to actually follow the news, which is, of course, catastrophic. I feel useless in comforting my friends who are where I was, mentally, a year and a half ago, before I had a tangible escape route to chase. It's hard to describe to friends here what it's like to live in the environment of the US, with the constant fear and depression, and the knowledge that the people around you, in many ways, truly are out to get you. That the government is going to fail you. That the access to assistance is being actively barred from you. That speaking out feels fruitless and dangerous. It's easier to view these things from a distance. But I remember that feeling so well, and it pains me to see it reflected in my friends and family.

I do what I can from afar. But I worry.

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I've been doing my best to stay in track with class, with painting, and with capturing some of the beautiful things in life. The sun, as always, is always a great provider.