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Lessons from a fox: On beauty

A fox family lives on our land. We became aware of them early this spring. It began with a kit standing clumsily by the door to our house. We were drinking our morning coffee and could not believe our eyes. The little thing was adorable, slightly smaller than our cats. Over the next few weeks and months, we met the rest of the family: two additional siblings and the parents. Our land is abundant with food, cherries and mice, so the foxes stayed. They must have quickly learnt that we were no threat to them, because with every day, they became more and more brave. They would see us standing at a relatively close distance, look up and continue doing what they were doing. Observing them became our daily (or rather nightly) activity. They were beautiful golden/red foxes with healthy looking fur.

One afternoon, after a storm; a new fox made an appearance on our terrain. Given his size, we could tell that it was a male. He was not of the fox family. His fur was unevenly patched with what lo…
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Naast een Moslim in een vliegtuig. (Deel een van de serie: Allochtoon op zoek naar een editor)

Het isonvermijdelijk,als je naar een Arabisch land reist, om een Moslim in je directe nabijheid te krijgen. In zulke gevallen, is het geheim kalm te blijven, als dat kan.

Op weg naar Jordanië: Ik loop naar mijn stoel 11A. De stoelen bij mij zijn al bezet. Twee jonge mannen die zien uit als Arabieren. De man op de isle stoel heeft zijn paspoort nog in zijn hand; het is groen en dun met twee zwaardenen een palmboom. Een Saudi (Moslim dus.) De Saudisch hebben weinig visaas nodig (een rijke land) en dus weinig pagina’s in zijn paspoort.  Ik glimlach aardig tegen de mannen en wijs met mijn vinger zonder te spreken. Ze staan op en laten mij door met een "Hallo" in Engels. Ze denken dat ik geen Arabisch spreek. Goed. Ik antwoord in Engels.
Ze beginnen in Arabisch te praten. De normaal conversatie tussen vreemdelingen op een vliegtuig: waar ze vandaan komen en zijneindbestemming. De man naast me spreekt met een Libanees accent. Hij draagt een cruis rond zijn nek. Ik pak de headphon…

In search for a pseudonym... I stumble upon Wilders' Fitna.

Fitna.  Is an Arabic word that is most commonly translated as ‘strife.’It could also mean 'enchantment' and even 'sin.' In its essence, it means: To make something appear differently than its nature.In the Quran, we are told that Moses ‘fatan’ the ropes and so they appeared as snakes.
Wikipedia does a good job at dissecting the word linguistically, so why recreate the wheel. I would however like to point here to the original meaning of the verb ‘fatana’ and that is: to burn.Adding to Wiki that it could thus be seen as an alchemical word… the burning of metal to distinguish the gold.Seeing through falsehood and finding the truth. Fitna is one of the many words that has been hijacked by the modern language.If words were to rebel, Fitna would stand in the frontlines. But in spite of the negative association of the word – or perhaps as a result of – Fitna is also a woman’s name (amongst certain groups like the Bedouins.)In that instance, it means that the woman is so beautif…

De Paardenbloemkamer

My first dutch language publication is out!
Mijn eerste Nederlandstalige publikate.  De eerst van een serie fabels.
"De Paardenbloemkamer"
A short children's story in the book
"4321....Lees: Verdwalen in Verhalen" 
The book is the fruit of a wonderful project by the Lionsclub Venlo, aimed at encouraging children to read and write... and most importantly, to imagine.
Children from 27 schools in Venlo were asked for story ideas. 43 ideas were chosen. Those were given to writers to inspire them to make a story,  and then to artists to make an illustration.
The result, a wonderful book full of imagination. Venlo might be a little city, but it it's een stedje with big ideas.

Photo from the book launch in Domani, Venlo on 23 November, 2016 with Tristan Thijsen (our idea-maker) and Floor Kurstjens (illustrator)

De Paardenbloemkamer: is a story about dreaming, facing one's fears, and growing up.  The title means: The dandelion Room.  It's all in one word, because one can…

A milestone rant : 9/11 - 11/9

The US Presidential Elections
From Social media back to ranting in a blog - editing disabled.


Writing is therapeutic, when it's a rant and half-nonsense then better not write or print it... a waste of paper and a waste of ink.  As for the internet... it is the vuilnesbak of everything ... sometimes a composting bin... so pour it in there.  Makes no difference.

There was a time when I wrote my poems and important things on this blog ... it also served as an external hardrive at times...  I might still do that ... but for today, after more than three years of not saying a word, it's just a rant.


Today, between Schiphol en Limurg, a long ride.  I indulged like never before in FaceBook.
The time flew.
Some said: "11/9 is the new 9/11"... two cursed dates (practically identical when looking at how Americans write numbers and how the rest of the world does it.)

When the towers fell, I was fresh off the boat in New York city.
I received the prints of my headshot…

النسيم في الدجى

قد يجد الانسان ألفة مع غريب، أكبر من تلك التي مع ذوي الصلة فالارواح مثلها مثل الدم، تجري ... في هذا النهر أو ذاك

النهر والبحر يلتقيان، ونحن نلتقي في القدر حيث تختلط المياه بالدماء ... حيث النار ترقص في الشرايين وحيث لا وجود لحدود ولا سبب للخوف ... فالجبال لا تفصل بيننا والنسيم في الدجى  يخبر.