Zen Dageraad Visser
Like many of my stories, this one started while I was walking on a day when the sun seemed nonexistent, and light seemed to disappear from the day a minute after it came.
Stupidity is hard to define, and I'm a lazy guy, so I don't care to think about it much -- but I'm certainly ignorant.
One of the things I'm ignorant about is the sun and the moon. I don't know why the sun hides away during parts of the year while it's there mostly forever during others.
My job is accepting that they forever do this dance, and it's one of those things that makes you look at the world differently.
There are specific trees only observable during this time of year that I never notice when the weather is warmer. Perhaps they're invisible, or they disappear.
While walking to my parents, I noticed the smallest of those trees.
If you allow me to be honest, it was a lot bigger than all the other trees of the same kind I had ever seen, and honestly, I'm not even sure if it was one of those.
But it was a tree I noticed, I'm reasonably sure.
Love must be something, right? A lot of people talk about it. But I'm not very sure what it means.
Feelings are complicated for me to understand anyway, so it's not unique to love. I suppose love is confusing for many people, but sometimes, it feels like everyone else understands much more about it than I do. Perhaps they are just better and more interested in pretending.
Just because I don't understand feelings doesn't mean I don't have them. Rarely, but regularly, it feels like I feel a lot, actually. The feelings are all over the place in my brain & body, and all I can do is accept I'm on some ride, unbeknownst where it'll bring me.
I think if I could accept that, my anxiety wouldn't be so bad.
So I guess this is a painting about love for my girlfriend. Whatever that means -- perhaps the fact that I keep wanting to paint her.
Helping a relative always sucks. You can't just say no. However, if you make a mistake, you hear about it for a long time.
My girlfriend is too kind in a way few other people are. She's always helping anyone who asks, and I have to deal with her complaining about people not paying her back or other consequences of her actions.
Anyway, a family member of a friend of hers asked us if we could help them get some money (actually, it was 1.3 million euros in cash) that someone owed them. And before I could reason with her that it was a horrendous idea to help, as there was no upside for us, my girlfriend agreed.
To my surprise, it all went smoothly. We stored the money in a safe provided by a friend's family member, who was the only person who knew how to open it once we closed it.
We had to wait a week, which was very nerve-wracking -- and of course, my girlfriend complained about it, too. We stayed home because we did not want to leave the safe out of sight. When one of us left, the other would stay.
We were sure that nobody had touched the safe.
But it was empty when the friend's family member showed up to collect their money. We quickly escaped the situation, and I'm now writing this story from some island you've never heard of.
Ever seen a grown-up work? It's not very interesting. Neither is seeing a baby work except for perceived novelty.
Now, I disagree with that perception, as I believe babies work much harder than most people do after they quit learning as their occupation, which most of us do -- learning to survive is no easy feat for someone who knows nothing.
All that to say: I once met a baby doing his job poorly, not because he did not want to (tough to believe, as he did not seem to try very hard). But I trust his word, for his word was all he had.
The baby was complaining about the stress doing the job poorly was giving him -- this stress was supposedly why the baby could not perform very well. The baby mentioned some vicious cycle, which I assume relates to astrology.
I'm not quite sure what he meant.
I'm also quite unsure why the baby would choose to be stressed like that, though: I suppose change is hard for anyone, and some people never seem to grow up.
Elk van mijn (nieuwe) kunstwerken heeft een gedicht en proza erover geschreven.
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Zen Dageraad Visser
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