drawing | bike

off to higher grounds or on our bikes... let's go for a sunny cyclic stride alongside the river. 's been a while, but today might just be the day. no olympics though. resting if need be. rachel is cycling in the shadow of the king of bikes (seems to me, both husband ànd vehicle ☻), and we obviously follow.... 

greetings from an unknown belgian village

salvatore adamo, sixties
picture thrifted

contradiction and paradox. from yesterday's sorrow {by the way, amazing and ♥ warming how we share similar thoughts on today's politics throughout the world} to the abstract politics of music. a few months ago i found this gentleman in a thrift shop. could you fall for this kinda guy? i know i could! vaguely smiling, i took adamo home.

salvatore adamo, sixties
picture thrifted

for some reason or other i mixed both adamo and rocco granata up in my head, and therefore paste them here in one post. true, they both are originally italian/popular belgian singers. dj buscemi joined forces with this old nostalgic power, and spruced up renato carosone's oh, sarracino. i hope fuoriborgo's land line opens up to this musical legend, while i wonder what the meaning is of all those belle frasi ... (hint, hint & yes, fran, this one is for you).

seasons & time

ill. season autumn, by rebecca stadtlander

i am not writing a political blog. but now and again the politics of modern day living creep up on me. worries, sorrow, joy, abundance interlace, in a way life fluctuates anyway. also, now and again, attention is called to topics that make one wonder about the value of our everyday living. it makes me wonder.

ill. season winter, by rebecca stadtlander

a few recent remarks on the fact the country i am living in has no government, {and we're still alive} makes me stop in my tracks. in a time of change, in which politicians are nothing but economy's messengers, people today seem (head)strong(er) than politics. in this light, what do today's politics stand for? 

ill. season spring, by rebecca stadtlander

in the seventies, when as a child, i got all excited over sunday afternoon political party street campaigns, parades in which sweets and other small stationery thrills were thrown at the spectator's feet, life and politics seemed to easily track. there were catholics, there were socialists, and there were liberals. things were cut and dry.

ill. season summer, by rebecca stadtlander

today i believe there's some twenty seven political crumbs, to this country alone, that either can't or won't agree on anything. their aim seems to be to divide and rule, but not even this they attain. they argue. they look after their own breed. they stagnate. meanwhile, the world runs. countries are run. people run. us, individuals run. or, we don't. we stop running. we reflect. and wonder.



{incidentally i stumble upon manuel castells' morning run in barcelona. ever since 9/11 spanish sociologist castell has entered my heart and brains with his think tank on social behaviour & personal identity, network theory & changing society.}

i realise i live in a country in which i can speak my mind freely, definitely a treasure. i appreciate this. and i don't think i will post anything in this style for a long time again (else i will start a political blog). but in these times of incredible change, i find our vows of values not half bedazzling. offering food for thought and consideration of today's society, in which our children grow up and will define ever changing global contours, i wonder also. is time perhaps pressing and otherwise excruciatingly ready for popular and firm(er) revolution? 

corner view ≈ silly

belgium is divided, if you want to so call it, in two (three even) language areas. close to holland, we speak flemish, down the south french is the word, on the east side, german would be most popular. {a rather silly data, governmentless as belgium is to this date}

as i live pretty close to the wallonia region, i regularly take the train into such places as ath, tournai, charleroi and mons. on one of such trips, i slid past this unobtrusive place. the walloons may not blink at the name, but i'm wondering what anglophiles think upon riding through this village?
{the fact the railroad sign seems to be upholded by small zip cable wire, sure feels like a silly detail too, don't it?} ☻

silly theme from Heather on jane's corner view, hosted by francesca.

chicken pie

once upon a time 

there was a sunday that desperately needed 

to get dressed. 

impatient for that moment, 

the sunday 

hung low in the sky, 

the overcast 

washed out 

the watery sun, 

in places, 

a recent summer storm 

had beaten branches to it. 

the speeding sunday 

needed reinforcement. 

it decided on 

first dessert 

(that would be tarte au maton),

 followed 

by chicken 

later.

you could say, 

it was kind of an upside down day. 

i wouldn't contradict you, 

if you did say.