Once upon a time in 1992, I hitch-hiked around Germany (and other Western European countries) experienced many hi-jinks and met up with my dear pal Trevor in a magical, fairytale town near the Rhine River called Rhodt unter Rietburg.
To earn some Deutsche Marks, we would gather chestnuts in the woods, and sell them to the tourists who enjoyed eating Kastanien, boiled, while drinking the excellent local wine.
While passing time at our “stand,” I painted the local environs.
Now, with the wonders of the Internet, I can find photos of the scenes I only remember has faded watercolour pencil sketches (i did not take a camera).
In this case, one of “crazy” King Ludwig’s summer villa/castle of some kind… Resplendent with ancient grape vines in the foreground.
I make scrapbooks and journals for all sorts of reasons, sometimes for my own creations and writing, sometimes for specific project and in this case, for inspiration or dareisay therapy.
Background: I was having hard go of it in life or whatever and moved into a very small room at a boarding-house-type place. While basic, i quite loved having a place which kept me safe and allowed me rest. Reminded me a sign i saw in Vancouver for the “Wonder Hotel – Rooms for Rent – Clean, Quiet, Free Cable, Fridge, Secure” – all the attributes this Ankangan Guesthouse possessed.
Well I ain’t no Olympian but I can get behind anything… Including the original running track/stadium in Olympia, Greece…
Actually, since I lived in Olympia Washington (#OlyWa) for nine (!) years, I guess I’m in Olympian… And yes, attended two Olympic games so there’s that, but still… No gold medals except for that run of first place ribbons in the science fairs in elementary school and the “Mr. Fun” certificate from Boy Scout Camp…
But yes, this is the original Olympic grounds and me in a Greek fisherman’s hat and tunic, you know, going local with my awesome moustache and specs.
My halloween disguise – you’ll never recognize me with ‘stache, chops, cardigan & fancy new hat. Waiting for a bus (i left the house!) off to meet 藤田良子 in hot spring village of Maniwa, on the borderlands of Tottori. Same as it ever was, same as i ever am (except slightly more chubby).
I ventured out, moustachioed, into the wilds of Guilford complete with my inmate number for easy identification.
Along with brother Dan as a clown, no tears for this one, and brother Bob with some inappropriate cultural appropriation upon which I won’t comment upon further, we would rampage through Guilford Mews condos using pillowcases instead of plastic sacks to collect the trick or treat bounty.
Oh those notorious Olson boys, always up to no good, they make the Duke boys look like saints. This time it’s Dan headed to the brig while I strike my best rockstar pose – indeed my true calling if it wasn’t those pesky musical instruments.
My iteration was a mix of my uncle Randy Bachman and a bit of Elvis who had died on my recent seventh birthday. Hey glasses, big hair, bellbottoms with pom-poms and platform shoes… But oh that pose! Simply says, “I know you’re looking but I don’t care – i’m just here to rock”
Two bearded distinguished gentleman discussing how Ernest Hemingway is vastly overrated.
note: this costume was on deck a couple years ago, but life got weird for me, but in that moment of sadness, I realized I didn’t need to dress up as the most interesting man in the world as i’ve met at least a dozen people as interesting as this fictional dude.