Archive for August, 2006

Madness. I am somewhere in Surfer’s Paradise now, after today hitch hiking to Brisbane and actually going back the same way Haha I could explain, but there are not enough words. Or time. Met amazing people. With them now. And there’s a bird on my shoulder.

Tomorrow I’m going to Brisbane again, and then move on north, I’m trying to get to the Reef. In a week. My mail won’t work so this is my sign of life

So my shoot for tomorrow is cancelled. Hence my decision earlier to leave in the morning. Waahaa that was it, I bought my bottle of whiskey, I did my laundry, I was ready. Here goes nothing. Leaving in the morning, bag on, my flame-covered All-Stars and my stupid grin.

Right?

I had dinner with an amazing couple who became my friends in a short time, to say goodbye, they even bought me maps and chocolate for on the road. During the lovely dinner, somehow the joke came up that normal life is for normal people, and that they should come along. Nonsense of course. And they are coming. Haha they are taking about three days off, rescheduling meetings, and we are starting for Byron Bay in the morning, about nine hours drive.

It changes the feel of the start, instead of crazy insecurity, it is starting off with friends. Amazing! Within a day my plan changed a thousand times.

At least my mother will sleep better tonight

I can’t wait I can’t wait I CAN’T WAIT! Thanks you two.

Questions, doubts, choices and decisions influenced by the arrogance of youth. Shit, should I really? Had a talk with my agency here, I work on Monday and Tuesday, but then they can technically let me go.

But only people that have hitch-hiked know everything that comes with it. The insecurity, the scary moments of being stuck, or getting offered a ride from someone that doesn’t feel right, where to sleep, the ‘I just want a bed, why the hell did I start this?’ moments. The moments that will come, garanteed, that I will want (really really want) to be back where I am right now. Sitting on a couch, after coming from my bed, in the warmth, security and boredom of a place of which I have the keys.

Safe and boring vs. insecurity and excitement.

Do I plan it? Try to look up friends (of friends of friends that know some people that that know some people who have a dog that looks like this other dog owned by this guy that lives across from that bakery, he might have a room. Maybe.), try to find rides before starting? Read up on Australia and make a travel plan? Maybe book a train to get started?

Or do it like Dave and I decided to do it when we somehow went to the westcoast of Belgium and back (while sleeping on still the most beautiful and biggest sailboat I have ever seen) in 24 hours. We walked off campus, didn’t know what to do, how to start nor where to go, almost panicked, and decided one thing while walking:

Don’t think about it.

With my profession, that shouldn’t be my biggest challenge (I figured I’d make the joke instead of leaving the honor to one of my brothers). Having someone to travel with would be cool. Someone that would stop me from thinking as much as I do.

I wonder what would happen if I decide to leave the fluffy safe cover of modelling in Sydney and leave. Pack a little bag, walk into the sun, sneeze three times, call yourself Sal Paradise and stick out your thumb, with nothing but a sign that says ‘North’. See how far I can get before having to get back to catch my plane to New York.

Where is that line between adventure and stupidity?

There are dangerous sides to making bacon and eggs in your bare bacons. While turning to get the pepper, I got shot by a tiny piece of pig, right on my right buttcheek, who will now be scarred for weeks.

Ah, the perils of making an omelette. What can I say, I like to walk on the wild side, I laugh in the face of danger. Good thing my left buttcheek is more photogenic, else I’d be out of a job.

I remember in Rick’s backyard more than a year ago that we were talking about all the warstories everyone always has about how much they drank. And how less cool it would be to change the alcohol related words to apples. ‘Man, I had at least 15 apples last night, it was madness!’ ‘Bartender, a round of apples for all my friends on me!’, ‘I ate so many apples last night that when I went to the bathroom this morning, it was almost applejuice!’, we continued the jokes for a long time. Last night I was reminded of this for other reasons.

Hey man, I just got a gram! Let’s do a line. I’ve already done three. Man, I’m tired, I just need a little line. If you bring three girls to that club, they give you an eight ball for free. Have you tried the new Fantasy? I don’t know what the **** they put in it, but that’s some potent shit! Haha I drove home and I swear I went like 190 on a country road haha so much fun! But I was in complete control, because it’s not like alcohol, you know? I knew it was all good. Yeah, let’s go to the bathroom. Let’s prepare some in the kitchen. Let’s do it. Roll up a 50 dollar bill and sniff some coke. It doesn’t matter that I’m 19 and you’re even younger. It’s great.

At some points I started doubting myself, maybe this is normal, why am I so scared of this? Maybe I was raised very protected and is this just another day, at home we have a beer, and here they do some coke. But then, if you pronounce the full name out loud, when you say ‘cocaine’ out loud (somehow to me it has an even bigger impact when I think it in Dutch, no clue why), you realize how messed up it is. It is cocaine they are talking about, cocaine they are offering, cocaine they are joking about. Cocaine they are sniffing right under everyone’s noses (ha!).

I have roamed the scenes of New York, Milan, Paris, London, Tokyo and other cities, and I’ve seen and experienced many crazy and ridiculous things, but I never thought that coming to Sydney would make me see more drugs than anywhere else.

Australia! It’s pretty chilly here. Lovely though. It feels like I’ve been here for a few weeks now. Alright, recap:

Arrived yesterday-morning, my place is up the hill in Bondi Beach, the view from the massive balcony and my room-window: the surf. The very nice woman I’m staying with has this board she never uses, and I can walk to the surf in about, uhm, let’s calculate, bus, train, metro, yeah, about 39 seconds. On average though. Waahaa so yesterday I ran with a board and my new wetsuit on bare feet down the street and then hit the famous Bondi Beach. Have I ever said ‘I am a surfer’? If I did, I apologize. From now on, ask me again, I’ll give you ‘No, but hey, I’d love to not suck’. Yesterday, I got my ass handed to me. It was like surfing for the first time again, I swallowed a liter or 6, I got mangled, slapped, beat, basically, the ocean had a good laugh. At my expense. And I loved it. Man, after physically having a hard time in both India (hello toiletbowl, haven’t seen you in 8 minutes) and Tokyo (I’ll sleep when I’m dead), my body is pathetically weak. This will change. Now at an insane gym with ocean view (of course) and surfing everyday. Magical. The sun at the end of the day is so low, and the waves so big you can temporarily get in the shade of the wave.

My agency is very nice, had the day off almost yesterday and went tourist: went to the Opera House, the different harbors, went on the BulletThunderMadWowThatsFast-type of boat for half an hour, with amazing views, and basically just had a blast. Today I had 7 go-sees, which took quite a lot out of my foot, the right one for a change, since I injured my heel last week at a shoot due to an amazing gift my father gave me: night-blindness. Went from sunshine outside to downstairs into a club. Saw nothing. Yes, I also didn’t see the stairs.

Nice little fact: LiveNews has now officially been brought to you from six continents. Within four years. Not too shabby

Tomorrow it’s tv-commercial time, with an apparently very famous American girl, but I am not sure what her name is. She’s an actress, from a series called The OC. Saw it once, she’s the tall pretty one haha I’m sure I’ll be making an ass out of myself.

The moon is ridiculously big here. With that fact or illusion, I’m going to bed. Catching up on sleep here.

I saw many things last night I could have had a happy life not witnessing them. My last night out in Tokyo. Now that my favorite Swede Erik left a few days ago, I know I am leaving soon too. Weird realization how everytime you can sort of feel bad about leaving a place you finally got to know, leaving friends, and being a bit scared of tackling another new city, on the other hand being so excited about going to Australia, and surfing, and working, and enjoying, and seeing more than CONCRETE. Haha Tokyo has quite a lot of that.

Especially after last night, I’m gonna drop something on here I wrote the same moment as the last post. Today is not a day like described below. Also, when I wrote it, it was not such a day. And that’s why I need to read it again, just to remind myself.

You wake up and get slapped in the face by the beauty of coffee milk twirling in your coffee, high on nothing but a good night’s sleep. The imaginary first drag of that cigarette you gave up smoking nine months ago. A message from that special friend, wishing you nothing but a good day. A walk through town causes 99% frowns and 1% smiles since you’re just roaming around with an idiot grin on your face. When life reaches the simplicity of finding a group of ants charging an apple, and you documenting the whole battle field in your mind.

Today is what it is, today is love, sun, ocean breeze, today is passion, friendship and fun, based on nothing but a shining sun and a floating balloon. I know it’s hard, these days don’t come by often, but when it does, take it. Don’t let living get in the way of life.