At Fault

selfie at the film festival

One of the best teachers I ever encountered on my way to who I am now once told me that FAULT is the most important element of a language. FAULT comes from personality, cannot be measured, is the form in which unsolved human thinking presents itself to our understanding – as a crack in a structure. Through that crack, all what is the essence of humanity (emotions, inspiration, sensation, content) seeps into our conscious to captivate, unsettle, fascinate us. We need a structure not because we need a solid form, a mechanism that won’t let us down. No, we need structure so we can have FAULT. Continue reading

753 Days Of Milk

breastfeeding teddy bear

We hit an important milestone – our tight little nursing dyad has existed for two years, three weeks, and two days. This means that, for 753 days (and nights) my body has produced milk, which my son has drunk several times a day, by suckling on my breasts. I’ve written about breastfeeding before, and I have also written about my conflicted relationship with my chest. Everyone who knows me personally knows that I am a breastfeeding advocate, someone who is not afraid to speak up for the normalization and the desexualization of this beautiful and necessary act.

Throughout these two years of motherhood, I’ve spoken openly in real life and on social media about why it’s important for me to feed my child with my own milk and how I believe it’s crucial that nursing mothers get all the support they can possibly get. I post status updates (even the occasional brelfie) to celebrate our nursing milestones and international occasions like the World Breastfeeding Week, I follow several websites dealing with social issues and promoting breastfeeding information, I even started working as a volunteer for an association that provides support for first-time mothers where I focus especially on nursing moms, because that’s the kind of experience I can share.

What I’ve never really spoken about though, is the pain. Continue reading

Forget Chard Smoothies, Make Chocolate [Rotterdam Parents]

chocolate

Everyone is talking about fresh beginnings, as we are only 12 days into the new year. Promises, diets, gym memberships, juicing strategies are all over my social media. If you read my last post, you know how well I did with last year’s resolutions and you also know what approach I’ve taken toward this year’s – there won’t be any promise I already know I can’t keep, but a consciously crafted, meticulously slow-paced, plan to conquer the world.

What I’m thoroughly convinced of, is that you can’t conquer the world while on a diet. Actually, I believe that diets are the single greatest enemy of anyone who desires or needs to lose weight and/or feel good about themselves. Take it from someone who has gone through at least 27 of them, brushed her tits against two eating disorders, and spent eighteen months dropping L-carnitine while lifting weights in a seedy gym smelling of severe male armpit: diets are traps. Continue reading

Resolutions And Results

I hope you won’t mind the technical angle I will shine my light on. You see, I’m one of those writers who love their craft, with passion. I love to read about writing, I love to study writing, and I love to write about writing too. I believe writers are very much like athletes – the novelists possibly like marathon runners, the copywriters like tennis players, screenwriters could be overpaid football stars – and one of the many things we have in common with sportspeople is the need to look at the results of our performance. So this one goes out to all my fellow writers at the heart of the cozy bunch of this blog’s readers, as I know we all like to compare notes and learn from each other’s downfalls.

resolutions

Sometime in early January 2015, I took my Big Black Notebook to one of my favorite cafe’s on a Sunday afternoon. Over a delicious bowl of lentil soup and an almond-milk latte, I wrote down what were about to become my writing goals for the coming year – regarding my rookie blog, but also my screenwriting “career”. At the time, Baby Blues And Rock’N’Roll was only 5 months old, I had written a shock of eclectic posts, I had not been published anywhere else than on my own website, and I realized I needed to start planning things a bit better, if I wanted to grow my audience and improve my stories. Continue reading