Peddler

how it all began

This copper ornament has been for generations in my family, growing up hearing the stories. Both my mother and my father were great story tellers. My mother made up her own stories, my father borrowed them from his father.

It is peddler with a milk cart pulled along by a dog.
Here you can see a photo of the real thing.

Some people see it as a sign of poverty, my mother saw it as a sign of independence.
So was it any surprice that me as wel went for the independence and became a modern peddler on a Narrowboat in UK.

POPUP gallery on our Narrowboat

Yep, for 3 years long we travelled along the canals in Wales and England selling our art, do you see the black rose on the site of the boat. The name Roos Zwart means Black Rose.

from this box came our POPUP

Once it was an old rust bucket of a boat but bit by bit we decorated it into a cruising art gallery.

painting the site
going from place to place
bridge to bridge

Here we were two artists going on a narrowboat to sell our art. We were bringing the art to the people.
We had some very interesting conversations and we did get many brilliant surprises.

the boat with customers

We were doing fine getting better all the time, untill the sad thing of brexit happened and us two foreigners from Europe felt the pain.
Our business went down with 25% after the fatal event. The boat needed that year some big repairs, due to new safety regulations.
Add it all up we had to stop.

facing up to reality

So we left it all behind, sold the boat, packet our bags and left. Our own brexit.

Perhaps one day it becomes a book, maybe not.

BUT

Next week a new Peddler adventure will start along the Dutch waterways.

Allegro

Allegro morning

in Wind silence
morning tip toes in
glorious action

old tiny

in Wind silence
morning displays
thousand shaded colours

klap

in Wind silence
morning wakes
long distance travellers

she is back

in Wind silence
morning violins
strike misty cords

only morning gives this

in Wind silence
heads dance overboard
feet clasp expanding ritme

wind silence

in Wind silence
wings take flight
in total surprise

go away

in Wind silence
sudden drum parade
over acting stomping clogs

One of them misty mornings in my large back garden
seeing lots and meaning lots of birds
coming back
Hearing them before you see them
Clicking like mad and having something which
was never ment to be but is
it reminded me of Allegro Con Fuoco

The last phot shows a Lapwing telling a Heron to move on, protecting her nest.
My camera is not the best for landscape nor birds but this morning made the difference.

silenCe

stilte

golden rule of silence

reflecting on soundless

moment cut off

reflect

noboddy in sight

muteness in vision

lightness in colour

silent sun

calm wakening

outline no form

silhouette of mist

collection

silence in finding
not just right word 
not just right light
not just right size
not just right composition
not just right
silence in finding

emptiness

What i like to show in my photos is not anything right
but
Showing silence
Lately focussing on emptiness, having only a bit sharp, having only a bit filled.

Instead of the golden rules and the constant emphasis on composition.
Laying a feeling of silence in the focus of the photo.

The empty photos are always good for placing poetry on the photo without comprimising the picture, words not taking away the vision.

What you think?
Do they reflect silence or just early morning light or even something else.

wAter lIne

praia

tangible shredded memories

count all numbers over golden stairway

wild gold used to know

strand

local perfect location

cover your way arm length 

seeing numbers of memories

peKa

third point of subject place

purple wave rolling golden beach

meaning of confronting lines

in your eyes
waterline

 

blurring my eyes with golden rules of location on waterline see it in the photographs perhaps read it in the lines maybe

golden line in poetry and writing any writing

golden ration in photography

page 31 stOOf

On page 31 of the “Dropped Feather” book you find a poem with the title “Stoof”, here follows the inspiration of that poem.

new land

The poetry in the book is about the moment. While taking the photos my mind wanders, sometimes to surprising places, at times following memory lane.
It took me a while before i found the place, cycling in memories on straight road framed with straight trees, along bare agricultural land.
Contrasting landscape compared with the river landscape, where so many of the photos come from. It is intensively farmed land and nature has no change, except along the edges. The above photo was taken in April 2020, ploughed soil, partly covered by plastic, artificial irrigated.
New land, the riverside is new nature, this is new created land from nature.

look at the photo top right hand corner.

Once the land was a cultivated natural landscape with mainly Willows. The Willows were harvest for basket making and other crafts, including clog making, them traditional wooden shoes.
The land was swampy with many creeks and small lakes, flooded during the winter months. There were little hills, called Terps the top photo shows one of them Terps with a small house. The houses on the Terps in the old landscape were used as shelter and sleeping areas for the Willow-workers. The whole area is around 1100 hectares, or was 1100 hectares.

In 1926 they started to take out the Willows and filled in the many creeks and small lakes, by hand, with shovel and wheelbarrow. Work for the many unemployed man and woman from the locale area, it was the way they earned their ‘benefit’ literarily the only way they could survive.
Refusing to work here was loosing your ‘benefit’ and with no money, no food etc. etc.

de stoof now

The worst of all it was seen as charity. The new landowners became rich over the backs of the poor who found themselves in a situation, which was not their making.
This story i was told as a little girl when my parents took us on the bike (they never owned a car) to a place we called de Stoof but its official name is Stoop.
We would picknick there on a sunny summer day. The Stoop is situated on an old Terp and was, this always makes me laugh, given to the community ha ha ha, it was made by the community.

Sitting there on the picknick bench i wrote the poem you find on page 31. Why it ended up on page 31 is pure coincidence, it has nothing to do with the photo.
The Stoof was written on 24 July 2020, the photo under the poem was taken on 16 September 2020, the photo next to the poem, page 30 was taken on 1 June 2020. The way to create Photo Poetry in some way related yet not at all.

http://roosboekjes.eu