Dear 2011,

You're not here yet, but I know just when you will arrive. Funny that, Top3 and Top4 didn't arrive when we expected them, but with you I know. You'll be here in a little over 16 hours. Guaranteed.

2011, let me be upfront with you. The world is a harsh place. You'll be put to the test, almost right away. As far as I am concerned, your predecessors dropped a few balls along the way. 2007 was the year when Top1 contracted Lyme Disease. 2008 was, surprisingly, even more crappy with lots of emotional strain. 2009 was the year when our freelance businesses took a downfall, and 2010 hasn't been a picnic either. Thank you for your efforts, guys, but really, we are glad to be rid of you.

I dare you to be different, 2011. You have 365 days till you seize to exist. Use them wisely. Be bold, be the year everybody will be talking about way into the next century. Be the year that this giant fishbowl filled with egotistic, hate-inducing sharks explodes. Heck, be the year of utter and complete economical meltdown if that is what it takes to open the eyes and hearts of people all around the world.

On a more personal note, be the year that sees doctors set their ego aside and help Top1 to get in great shape. Be the year that sees our headstrong pre-schooler soften up a bit. We love Top3 and Top4 to pieces, but the bickering and screaming is hard on our ears and hearts. Especially mine, being highly sensitive and all. Don't you dare be the year when I snap and leave without ever coming back. Though tempting at times, that doesn't seem like the right solution. Instead, be the year that sees us live in harmony most of the time.

Be supportive of our creative endeavours. We are more than willing to dive into the creative flow, but silly things like money matters and wrong time / wrong place make it very hard for us to deliver.

2011, you will be the year when I turn 38. I've dreamt about that number in your illustrious predecessor, 2008. In that dream, I asked Someone what it meant, 38. And that Someone answered: "That's what you'll have to make do with." I would like to think that this means I will end up with 38 followers on this here blog. Don't you dare telling me that this dream really is about reaching a certain age, because I am not digging that. You hear?

All in all, I guess I am asking you to be the year of the Great I Am. That is a daunting task, I know, and you're new at this. But we've all been around longer than we care to admit. And we are tired of the tricks your predecessors played upon us. Trust me, you won't look like a fool if you go for something new - all joy and no sorrow.

You'll be our hero. Promise.

Kind regards,
Top2

PS Here are a few of my attempts at working with watercolour pencils. They are not so great, but as I said: if you keep us afloat, we will dive into the creative process with all we've got. Then my work is bound to improve.

A few years ago, a fellow member of my weekly art class introduced the Dummy Book. Every week, we each draw or paint on a page in one of these books, bring them to class, study them and switch books for the next round.

The result: a host of never-ending stories, often very funny, always inspiring. For me, as an abstract adept, it is a good exercise in figurative work.

Top3 and Top4 like to take a peek in the Dummy of the Week, as they call it, and fantasize about what will happen next.

Now, Top3 has his own Dummy Book. The first page features a voracious creature in Roman style, holding the famous Asterix & Obelix signum in his hand.

I am very curious how this story will develop!

"Champion" sounds a lot like the Dutch word for "mushroom".

(A lame pun, I know...)

For a watercolor series of my own, I was experimenting with different backgrounds.

Top4 wanted to make a painting, so I experimented a bit for her as well. This is a cheap canvas, evenly coated with two colors, then covered with crinkly plastic and left to dry.

Top4 chose the templates and designed the outfit. I helped a bit with the tree and some of the coloring.

Good fun, all in all.

(On my studio floor)

(On my studio floor)

You want to know something funny? The tree is here, I am here, but the rest of the family is spending Christmas elsewhere.

Don't feel sorry for me. I'll be spending two whole days in my studio, and that is a great gift!

Two days of uninterrupted flow is a luxury for somebody working from home, with her spouse working from home as well, and two kids around most afternoons.

Have a wonderful weekend!

This is a painting I've been working on this past week. She'll probably get a veil of some sorts.

I am trying to give her a generous and kind nature, as I am sure a Holy Mother is the quintessence of generosity and kindness.

This is our nativity scene, also titled "Hark Hark, A Silly Stone Bluetit With Christmas Hat Larks".

I'm off on a family visit for a couple of days, so I've got a few automated posts coming up.

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Hint:

A tall green hunk closes an obscure deal with a fellow who sings:

To-day do I bake, to-morrow I brew,

The day after that the queen's child comes in;

And oh! I am glad that nobody knew

That the name I am called is...

Click on The Sketchbook Project label on the right for further details!

These two have been together for almost 35 years. I plan on repairing them properly the next couple of weeks - in between painting, writing, deciding which child can use the swing, and other fun stuff.

Tradition: "A mode of thought or behavior followed by a people continuously from generation to generation."

Well, by that definition, we've started a tradition by installing a swing in the living room. Top1 assured me that was good fun when he was young, and so, reluctantly, I agreed.

Now, the children have a new reason to fight. (You didn't really think Top3 and Top4 were always singing and playing joyfully together, did you?) Who gets to use the swing first, morning, noon and night...

But once they are swinging along, it actually IS good fun, for all parties involved. They enjoy the swing, I enjoy the funny faces Top3 makes when swinging.

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Can you guess what family tradition Top1 has introduced in our household?

This is the cover for my entry for The Sketchbook Project 2011.

I will be having a difficult time binding the heavy watercolour paper, which I probably will have to trim at the margins.

As it turns out, I have a lot to learn about illustrating, book making, etcetera.

Will keep you posted about the end result.

This is one small step for a man (Top1), but one giant leap forward for his kind (the chaotic kind).

Top3 has taken to jogging hundreds of rounds in the living room. His personal record is 260 rounds. Every 50 rounds or so, he has to stop to take a deep breath. Top4 then takes the jerry can and fills him up with "gaz". This is the pit stop sign she has created for him.

Let me start by stating that we are by no means poor. We own a house (well, co-ownership with the bank), two cars (old but not too crappy), eight bicycles (one will be ditched soon), two cats (never to be ditched for sure!) and enough chairs to seat ourselves and our visitors.

But... we're not dripping in diamonds either, so we do have to make choices.

One of those choices is that we try and fix broken stuff numerous times. If it really can't be fixed, we look for a replacement in the local thrift store. If we can't find what we need, we resort to buying new stuff.

Our television set is older than Top3. We still own a VCR and regularly use it to tape late-night shows (why is it that the interesting stuff is always broadcasted after midnight?)

Most of the metal items in our house are handmade by Top1. Most of the textile items (curtains, cushions, bed linen, blankets, etcetera) are handmade by myself.

Almost all of the (countless!) renovations in this here old house we did ourselves. (I am the Queen of Plastering.)

This way of living means improvising a lot. This morning, I discovered why our Ikea dining room chairs didn't feel as comfortable as when we bought them some six years ago. (New!!! In my defence: I was pregnant with Top4.) The cushion lining had given in, after a previous attempt to repair with Vilene Iron-On. I didn't think that another patch of Vilene would do it, so I grabbed Top1's duct tape instead.

The result: Perfect seating, for another couple of years...






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Today, Sinterklaas & The Black Boyz will hand out presents to all children great & small.

Top3 knew that his beloved Gogos would feel left out today if they could not join the fun, so he has kindly constructed a steamboat, a Sint-A-Gogo and a lot of presents to aid them in their war on terror.

The Raindrop

Though yesterday's rain does look like today's rain, it doesn't contain the same drops. Once upon a time, Emperor Constantine went out hunting and had to take shelter under an oak. On one of the lower branches fell a raindrop called Sba. Sba tried to hold on to the green leave, but he was so slippery that he slid down and fell on the ground.

Sinking in the sand he took a quick look round the earth, which he so desperately wanted to see. Sba had to stay in the ground for five hundred years, and that made him so angry that he kept yelling: "I can't take it any longer!" Eventually, he had sunk so deep that he ended up in the groundwater. Now he could swim to a well. He welled up, and consequently found himself floating in a stream, then a river and finally the ocean. There he was surrounded by a myriad of other droplets. In fact, there were so many of them, that Sba was pushed all the way down to the bottom of the ocean.

Again, he had to stay for five hundred years and again he yelled: "I can't take it any longer!" Then he disappeared in a pearl oyster, which was harvested by a diver. Just in time, Sba managed to jump out and fell on the surface of the ocean. That was the start of a long journey on the waves, across all the oceans and through most straits. If you want, you can see where Sba has been for yourselves. He has visited all of the blue areas on the map of the world, but none of the green or yellow areas, though that was precisely what he wanted so badly: To see the earth.

One day a sailor caught Sba in his bucket and threw him on deck. There he lay, stretched out thin under the warm sun. When he no longer could hold on, he turned into vapour and rose to the sky, in search of the clouds. The wind helped him to find them and then blew the clouds towards land, where they poured their heart out.

That was not too long ago. Remember that downpour the other day? The first raindrop you felt on your nose, was Sba. When you wiped him off, he fell to the ground, and once again, like in the days of Emperor Constantine, he sunk in the sand so quickly, that there was barely time for him to see the earth. And yet again, he simply has to wait for hundreds of years to come. Can you hear him yelling down there?

(This is a rather loose translation of one of the stories in the beautiful novel "Het sleutelkruid" or "The King of the Copper Mountains" by Dutch author Paul Biegel. I merely wanted to share this story with you, so I hope I haven't infringed upon anyones copyright...)