John, your music feels like home!

For wanderlusters, "home" has a different meaning. The nigh-bus to the airport might feel more familiar and welcoming than the house where they grew up. For me, John Lennon's voice is one of the few magic things that always comforts me. It takes me away from this world and boy, don't we all need this sometimes? It's been a while since that 8th December, but his music lives on, at least as a part of my home...

 

Amsterdam reflections: with Vincent on my mind

Waiting. No. More.

“- I can't go on like this. 

    - That's what you think.” 

“- What do they say?

  - They talk about their lives.

  -  To have lived is not enough for them. 

  - They have to talk about it.”

“Nothing happens. Nobody comes, nobody goes. It’s awful.”

“We have time to grow old. The air is full of our cries. But habit is a great deadener.”

(Samuel Beckett, Waiting for Godot)

And then I thought: Blue!

Fall. Sunday morning. Sunrise. Walk in Vondelpark

Sunset among the clouds