Spinning

Today I went spinning, and I don't mean Kylie's kind of spinning. When I entered the gym I was kindly asked whether I would like to join a Tour de France spinning session, which I of course couldn't refuse! I think that one litre of sweat exuded me, at least during the session which took a whole hour... But I like the adrenaline. I found out that the climbing sessions are much heavier for me than the sprints.

The class did a good job and was rewarded with free energy drinks and a towel! Tomorrow I'll go to the gym again.

Dublin discoveries

This weekend I was in Dublin with Kris, visiting Ruth. It was simply a wonderful weekend, full of nice discoveries. Tonie, who served us lunch in a nice Dublin lunchroom appeared to be one of the first people who was involved in IGLYO in the eightees. Ruth lives around the corner of Colin Farrell and Bono. The cliffs in Howth are breathtaking. Beer, tequilla and vodka makes you quite drunk. Bars without the smell of cigarettes (smoking is prohibited in bars and restaurants) makes you aware of scents you have never smelled before.

Die for love

Tomorrow I'm travelling to Berlin to attend a queer youth conference. Wednesday evening we will commemorate Mahmoud Asgari and Ayaz Marhoni, two Iranian young people that were hung last year because they were homosexual.
Around the world remembrances will be organised, because we can not even try to forget these two boys, who died for love, as long as hundreds of young people around the world still face the same destiny.

I am sorry for using this shocking picture, but I believe that we will not change anything if people don't see these cruelties with their own eyes.

Treasures

This weekend I was in Utrecht, where I got a tour through the 'Catharijne Convent', a museum about Dutch Christianity. Never I had thought that a museum with a Christian background would fascinate me this much!

I guess that this was largely caused by the fact that we got a look behind the scenes; we visited the museum depot where a lot of art was stored; and a friend gave a wonderfull introduction on all the treasures that the museum covered.

It was a perfect cultural contribution to this weekend, in which I did not do much work, but saw family, friends, the gym and disco's instead!

Crazy butterfly

A melancholic mood in the train from Paris to Amsterdam. It is Monday evening the 10th of July, 2006. Across of me a Australian couple is listening to long monologues of a Belgium women who speaks English with a British accent. They do not look to be particularly interested in her knowledge of Australia, which friends of her visited last year. It takes the couple a while before they manage to focus on the book and paper they are reading. It seems they do not dare to look up any more, out of fear to get attacked by another endless monologue.

Traveling first class is not something I am used to, so I enjoy the benefits of getting a meal and drinking a glass of red wine which strengthens my melancholic mood. I can not hide myself in this train. I am seated in a single sit next to the walkway and above of me there is the reflection of other people in the luggage shelf. No chance to express this melancholy in a laughter or tears.

So I decide to look back on a nice board meeting in Reims, which is in the district of Champagne. A visit to the Mumm champagne cellars made me understand the complex production process behind this delicious light golden coloured sparkles. I love it. I work a bit on some articles and try to sleep a bit.

In Brussels the train gets stuck due to technical reasons. Everybody has to leave train and complete wagons of people get mixed up. Some remain for a while without seat, which seems to be a much bigger problem in First Class then it is in Second Class. I start to get annoyed by all screaming people but then I have to laugh about their haughtiness. I love the little adventures in trains.

Book

I'm not a big reader, but in the train to Paris this morning I finished a wonderful book. By absence of men is the story of two boys during the first world war whom fall in love, an impossible love.

"I indeed think, I'm sorry, that love is the indispensable reason of grief.
You have to know that the other before anything, is the one whom causes us sorrow, or will cause. Sooner or later he fails to be there, openly or furtively, concience or unconscious, partly or completely. Yes, he always fails and it is impossible to possess him completely. Possessing: an ugly word, isn't it? I can hear you say it. Despite, whether you want it or not, love eventually is a matter of possessing. Do you love me? Do you love another?
And worse: because the other fails we love him more. Through our hindrance our passion adopts a fixed shape. That is the problem. The perpetual necessity to seduce, to convince, to keep the other with us, to prevent him from going, that is what nourishes our love. We end in a vicious circle in which we of course loose, whilst we thought we were winning, but in we eventually are superseded because we could not win. The love kills itself. "

Let the sun shine

The recent heatwave in the Netherlands didn't stimulate me to write much lately! Besides I was rather busy at work and trying to spend my time as efficiently as possible, thus spending my leftover time in parcs and on the pavements of cafes. All other hours I tried to sleep... mostly unsuccesful!

But I love it!

This weekend I'm off to Reims, the city of Champagne, for a weekend-long board meeting.