21 August 2021 | A cool summer, I’d call it. Currently dreary. No longer summer, really.
Nothing new in images. Just discarded masks, a sight many of us share. Palm trees sway in 2D breezes. On the streets, little evidence that a summer sun exists. It’s quiet. Everyone is switched off. There’s peace. Is this the normal wavelength I’m seeking? Is this the future? Rogueing.
I found this drawing soon after to moving to Amsterdam and a few months before the pandemic hit. I fancy this is what Vincent van Gogh would look like if he was a cowboy.
— A man wore a black plastic bowler hat, dark yet light blue jeans and something white as he rode casually by in June.
— On an unseasonably warm and sunny November day, a man walked in Rembrandtpark. Perched on his zimmer frame was a very large parrot.
— Bemused workers at a pickle factory looked on as an already tall woman dressed in a bright blue suit passed by effortlessly atop stilts in May.
— A gentleman got to work painting his houseboat in the summer sun wearing a skimpy black g-string one July.
“It can be possible. We need to check” uttered a man speaking into a phone on a train at Sloterdijk sometime pre-corona, at a guess.
“Can my friend also pee here for one euro?” said a tourist to a toilet guard at a Thai restaurant.
“I wasn’t allowed to wear underwear for two months” ventured a young French man to a woman while riding his bike in Amsterdam Zuid.