Top4 has been visualizing her Granny - and it worked, 'cause she and her brother magically transferred to Granny territory for the rest of the week. (Well, Top1 helped with the transport...)

Which leaves me to myself, dividing my time between the office and my studio, mostly writing but drawing a little as well.

I've decided to quit entering poetry competitions. I did end up in the Top100 of the Dutch National Poetry Competition once again, but it felt like a poetry parade. I'm not sure what it is about those competitions, or about the jury, but it felt wrong, being included amongst 99 other poems, of which half was utter crap. Is this really the best we have to offer?

I entered the English National Poetry Competition as well, but to no avail. (I'm sure the winners have exquisite poetry, haven't seen their work yet.)

Yesterday evening I thought long and hard about the subject. Entering competitions means I cannot publish my poems. I have to wait till perhaps somewhere along the line some magazine picks one up and publishes - exclusively for its readers.

That's not how I want to operate. I create as the flow dictates - so I should release along the same lines.

Might not bring me a lot of fame. But what's fame got to do with it? I never was in this thing for fame in the first place.

So, I'll be updating my portfolio with an English poem every day this week.

(Yesterday, I added the penguin poem. Today, it'll be a cheeky poem about dinner.)

... then at least have something fun to look at whilst you're there ;-)

Today, first the Weather Gods handed us lofty blue skies and sun and just a few stout clouds. Then, I pretended to be a Dutch master and played around with my new photo imaging software some more.

If ever Top4 gets notions about selling stuff at the market, I'd propose to her to go into Post-Its.

Why sell the ordinary stuff, like bread or vegetables or flowers, or stainless steel knife sets?

No, I'd have her collect the hundreds of Post-Its she has left in every nook and cranny of our house, and offer them to market visitors. She'd be doing me a favor (a little less clutter), and she'd be doing them a favor as well.

I mean, "Jump around" - that's a good reminder, innit?

Please visit Francesca at FuoriBorgo for a tour around the world's finest and most enjoyable markets.

(Playing around with new imaging software)

I had a spare hour today, so I took my camera and went sightseeing around the house.

It feels less and less like MY house, as I have had very little time to play around with vacuum cleaner and mob, to organize a closet, or to do the laundry. Top1 is in charge of the household now, and he does a marvellous job, all things considered.

We're all a bit exhausted. The little Tops seem to have lost the use of their ears (they've compensated by turning the volume up a notch), Top1 has lost some of his sense of humour and I have lost some of my cheerful disposition.

It's not that things are not going as planned with the start-up. They are.

It's just that other things are left untouched for too long.

Let's hope for a spot of sunny weather on an opportune moment next week. Then we can re-enact some of Top4s Playbunny nakedness in the garden and soak up the energy of the sun.

... letting your little sister sleep in a Mini Tipi in your room, on this special night.

(This photo was taken on Valentine's Day 2010. Top4 would need a Medium Tipi now.)

PS Managed to buy a new second-hand car. Hope nothing else will break down. It's a nuisance to criss-cross the country whilst we have tons of other things to do.

It's been hectic these past few weeks, and I don't foresee a change in that pace.

In the office, I'm accepting any and all translation work that comes my way, whilst arranging things for the undisclosed start-up. For now, let's just say it's not what you all would expect from me, but apparently all my friends and family do, as no-one I told about it IRL seemed surprised.

This makes you think, doesn't it - how many different roles can one person have? Or perhaps the element of surprise has lost its appetite, due to the economical crisis, the weather crisis, the what-not-crisis.

As it is, I work three "jobs" at the moment - office, start-up and the art & poetry stuff, that never, ever will leave me alone. Even if I try to be ordinary and watch a movie every evening after working full shifts, they pop up from nowhere, these darned images, the corroded words.

And then there is the novel, which was going rather well, but has now lost a bit of momentum because of the start-up. Well, Top2, then why not delay the start-up? Well, internet, why not delay the draining of our savings account?

A good start would've been NOT to have one of the tacky old cars we drive, quit before we were ready to buy another one. One tacky old car doesn't cut it out here where public transportation is next to non-existent. So, we'll need to go shopping for a second, slightly newer car that undoubtedly will turn tacky the minute us Flowtops lay our hands on it.

Also, the start-up is about helping people in need, and somehow I don't think that can wait too long. Society is not helping itself these days, is it?

Add the fact that I do not take well to severe cold (chilblains hold me prison in the house) and you'll understand that I often wonder why the hell this all comes together now, at this precise moment, and not consecutively, neatly arranged to digest piece by piece...

I leave you with this cute gizmo (an outtake from a large watercolor that I still need to finish), and with a link to a poem about turtles. Just a few of the things that snuck up on me, while I was busy surviving.

In lieu of Corner View (Francesca is terribly indisposed, weather-wise) Top3 today presents to you a fiendish Ork Goblin. He's the pilot standing on top of the poison transfer thingamabob in the lower right corner, impatiently waiting till the two Snotling workers have finished welding and painting the surface of his rocket.

Where will he be heading with the poison-filled bombs, you ask?

His target is the base of an opponent Warhammer race (probably Space Marines or Battle Sisters).

His goal: To purge the world of these blasted aliens.

(Mind you, this information is all strictly on need to know basis)

Phew... I made it. 39. No longer 38. (Remember the dream?)
Some aspects of my life have not changed. But I have.
That should be enough. No, wait. That IS enough.

The little Tops love to play around with tea-warmers. They haven't set the house on fire yet, so we just let them.

And sometimes the result is amazing!

For more Corner Views, please hop on over to Francesca at FuoriBorgo for some Italian early morning light - and more!