Maybe you don't recognise it immediately as an elevator, but it is.
Only for transporting kegs one level up or down.

We used it ourselves also. Standing next to the kegs. It saved some time.

Sometimes I'm using it when during the tour there is an old lady who can't descend & climb the steep stairs we have.

But it is forbidden!

It says on the sign too: Forbidden for people, Max lifting capacity 1000 kg.

So just 1 old lady. Not more than that. Maybe her stick. Not more.



Ok, floor again.

& Instead of the floor of Brouwerij de Molen, now a T-shirt from that brewery, laying on the floor of Brouwerij 't IJ.

It's not sharp focused, I know. I tried photographing it on the floor of a train.
Didn't succeed.

Tried this floor. Didn't succeed either.

It's the shirt that's making it out of focus.

But the floor, that's what it's about.

Try copy this one.

full sail

Full Sail

This is the floor in a brewhouse.
It's got to be renovated.

Bad work, the brewer told us.
We agreed.

But when we were eating something in the pub, I layed down 1 of my T's over there to try to make a nice picture of it.

It's like Italy, just above the shirt, I realised when I came home & looked at it on my computer.

So each time I see this floor I want to go to the italian city Florence.

& At the same time I'm also getting thirsty.



It's a trend to make beers stronger.

Certain beerstyles are getting the prefix "Imperial'.

Imperial Porter, Imperial Stout, Imperial IPA.

So it's about time for an Imperial Saison. We came to think of that when we (people working in de Bierkoning) visited Brouwerij de Molen.

So we also discussed about a name that would suit such a unique beer.

It might be that my name will be used for it.
It just might...



People get to know at what time I'm gonna take a shower & leave home, thanks to all these photographs.

If I want to leave I 1st have to figure out which T-shirt should be placed online.
& I have to write something with it too.

After that I can start to brush my teeth.

You better don't come around when there's no new T available here yet.

Although I have to say I think I smell nice. Especially after 2 days.

I do have some responsibility towards other people too.



Why should everything be clean?

Not that I don't feel sorry for myself when I see that a lot of dust has piled itself on my bookshelves.
Not that I don't feel ashamed that when my mother is visiting me the gas cooker is covered with so much grease stain that you can't recognise the gas cooker as a gas cooker.

I don't mean that.

I mean: do you see the paint that is not paint anymore?
Do you see all kinds of colours where lots of work with Photoshop would be necessary to hide the age of the machines?

Can you imagine me laying down, looking at the ceiling to think of figures that they supposedly or unsupposedly put in the structure of it?

Do you see the clouds? They are different from yesterday.

And hey, they've changed again!



I won't be leaving my home again.

I'm gonna watch the leaves falling.

As far as they didn't fall already.

I think there's just a 10th left from what is on this picture.

You could say that it looks empty now. Just a few leaves left to enjoy myself.

I can see all the birds' secret places.

They only have seasonal curtains to hide themselves.



When I had some trouble with my chest last monday I bought this puzzle.

And during 24 hours besides sleeping & eating I didn't do anything else than trying to solve it.

Extremely difficult, especially when you let all the pieces fall on the ground & some of them try to hide themselves under the couch.

Anyway, I solved it. & It calmed me down a bit.

But why I had to put that shirt on this picture I really don't know.

Maybe because green goes well with green?



I'm going to work again. I've been resting long enough.

Although I can't say that I'm at ease.

I keep thinking: there should've been a reason to put me in an ambulance.

Life. Back to normal. No dangers. Untill the opposite is happening.



Guess what? I'm gonna stay at home.

I won't be leaving the house.

& I think you would have done the same, carrying your own sun with you.



The shirt is nothing special. The floor is though.

Lots of cheese has been ripening here. Now they mature beer at the same place (Brouwerij de Molen).

I can wear it today. Nobody who knows me will meet me today.

But she has seen me standing in my underwear. Even more, better: even less than that.

So I shouldn't be ashamed too much wearing a shirt I don't like.



I decided to take some days off.

I informed my employers. Told them what condition my condition is in.
They said it's alright.

So I'm gonna hang out at my own place. Look how the birds & the wind are emptying my garden.
& Cats trying to fill it again.

Visit some art galleries.

Wear T-shirts I don't dare to show myself in in 'public'.



They decided to take me to the AMC (Amsterdam Medical Centre).
An ambulance was being phoned & they put me on the stretcher.

Protocol, they said.

They asked me whether I was nervous.

I said I wasn't. I just let it happen. Let it roll. Let it. It.

But probably, I said, I will get nervous when I get home.

I'm still not nervous.
I'm lethargic.
It all happened. I wasn't taking part in it.

So if you're trying to reach me: I'm not here.

I'm somewhere else.

The whole week I decided.

Maybe I'll respond.
But that'll be all.



I phoned.

I said: Yesterday evening I felt kind of a pressure on my chest.

She said: Oh, and did you feel dizzy? Did you have a feeling of nausea?

I said: No, I didn't. I was immediately paying attention to my left arm. But I didn't feel anything special there either.

She asked: How long did it last?

I said: About an hour.

She said: Well, we better check. I do have some time at ½ past 3.

I said: ½ Past 3. Alright.

& Then I started thinking about which T-shirt I should wear.

Something anonymous will suit this occasion, I thought.



This is not too much. It can be worse.

Loads of garbage we have each week. Boxes, trays, sixpacks, plastic.

We collect it, put it into 1 of the boxes & at mondays & thursdays give them to the garbage collectors.

I don't have to do that anymore. I don't work at the right moment.

Actually, I do work at the right moment. So I don't have the responsibility for it anymore.

How I can't stand cleaning up.

People tend to think that it's all organised at my place.

Well, it is. But it's a mess too. A mess where I can find my way.

Untill the moment I get visitors. That's the moment I lose control.

I put things at places people won't notice them anymore.

& That's where I lose track of them too.



It's not really wallpaper, but those loose ends do remind me of my father.

He used to paper the rooms at a home for elderly. While he was director of a girls' school.

He earned our holidays with it, he told us.

He had special clothing for doing it. Old clothing.
& A hat.

Underneath his hat, on his ear, he had a pencil hanging.
A short one, that during his life never shrank.

That one pencil. I'm sure he never changed it.

One of the last rooms he papered was mine. He still used the same pencil, hanging behind his ear when he didn't need to mark something down.

That's why I thought he wouldn't die.
Everything would remain the same, change slightly, but remain the same and wouldn't shrink.



I had to have this T.

So I told Tony my brother was an 'eendenkooiker'.

Yeah, try to find a good translation for that word yourself.

Duck decoy keeper?

Sounds stupid.

I thought I sounded quite stupid myself at that moment.

Then I told Tony that I had a huge collection of beershirts.

Didn't help either.

He liked my stories though.

I said to him: Shall we shop shirts?

That he understood.

He even gave me Gepost om 12:18 uur door Ton Geen reacties



The last time I wore this T it was itching.

I hate itching T-shirts.

I hate itching.

I have to though. I once bought this T. I have to wear them all.

But please, don't let it itch.

For safety reasons I'll wear a longsleeve underneath it.

st. georgen

St. Georgen

Somebody got to explain to me how this is possible.

I turned the lamp 5 cm into the direction of the T and that resulted in flat colours.
I turned it back and in this picture the wall was yellow again.

How come those camera's (maybe not only those) in cellphones do see the world differently from what my eyes see?

I have to admit I love yellow though.



Yesterday I visited Brouwerij de Molen again. This time it was a small trip with my colleagues from work.

I had brought some T's with me. Last time I felt sorry I didn't bring more. So I could take some pictures of them.

But I hate it when people look at me taking those pictures. Makes me feel really uncomfortable.

So I waited for my colleagues to look for something I already had seen last time.

Rits rats klick.

That's how we say it in Dutch.

Within some seconds I had photographed 2 more T-shirts.

They came back when I was putting the T's in my backpack.

I still felt uncomfortable.



I said to the man: My brother got his pub called 'Monk'.

Thelonius Monk.

Don't you want to swop shirts? I also asked.

But it was a rare 1, he said.

A ½ year later he sent it to me via snailmail.

It's the 1st time I'm gonna wear it. I didn't need an extra longsleeves yet.

The pub doesn't exist anymore. I gave my brother another T though: Monk's Café in Philadelphia.

This 1 I keep for myself.



Since I started taking pictures of my T's I came to realize that there is more colour than just colour.

As if I didn't know before.

I'm more aware of it now.

The garden has 100 types of green in it.
& Suddenly a green seems yellowish.

I don't just look at the birds anymore, flying around, collecting tiny bits of food I can't see.

I look at colours I can't figure out how they came into life.

Look at these wooden boxes. Boxes I stand on at my work for reaching out for higher shelves.

I thought they were just wooden.

Now I know better.

But is my life richer then?

hansje drinker

Hansje Drinker

Hansje Brinker put his finger in the dyke, Hansje Drinker put his finger in the glass.

The guys who developed this tripel even went to some dentists under training to get holes in their glasses. So you couldn't do without your finger.

Lots of drills broke down, lots of glasses too.

They probably also got tired themselves of holding their fingers at the same spot all the time.



I've been walking there.
I realized that when I put the photograph on the computer.

I left some wet shoeprints on the photograph.

Now you know I live.

I walk. I search. I'm looking for the right place to take the photograph from.

A small step.

The rest you may think up yourself.



It's a long time ago. It was in the time my hair was still blond.

Although there were some grey ones too.

I kept on saying: I started to turn grey at my 21st.
Then I found my 1st grey hair.

Now I practically turned grey totally.

Except for my beard.
My beard is red.

They keep on asking me: How come? Did you know you had red hair?

I say: Only a few women knew I was red.



Now all the people are probably gonna ask whether I am a daddy.

Or they're gonna start asking about my love life.

& I'm gonna say I'm feeling happy this way.

Hm, yeah, tss, the T-shirt, yeah, hmpf, I just had to wear it; it's 1 of my 300 kids you see.

I'm as old as the leaves on this tree, too old for having children.

Too yellow.





Don't tell anybody.

Well, don't tell it to hím.

You see, I don't want him to know.

I don't want him to know I was wearing his T.

I swopped it. I think it was for a T of the brewery I work in. With him.



I always try to dive under the bar or the counter when I see him entering the building.

So sssssh.

Don't tell.

You'll probably recognise him. He looks like a jerk & he is a jerk.

kent 2003

Kent 2003

In the future, I thought, people will be able to get a picture of the place I live.

They wil get a bigger picture of the way I lived when all the photographs will be combined.

Computers will transform it to a new reality.

Old reality, that is. Because I won't be there anymore.

Nor the things that surround me.

For what use?
I don't know.

But does it matter that I don't know?

Does it matter that this garbagebag was blue and the dustpan & brush were red?



Presume everything would be clean.

Repaired before you could have noticed it was broken.

No place on the flour with a hole to find.

No spiders, nor their webs.

No stain.

& I would be polite. All the time.

That would be special.

& People would only come to drink beer.

Not to enjoy.



For those who are already too drunk to be able to read what it says:
Yes, I'm drunk. & You're ugly. But tomorrow I'll be sober!

I'll be getting lots of remarks this coming afternoon. People who'll say they get dizzy looking at my T.

& I'll keep on saying that it's a famous quote of Churchill.

No, I won't be saying that. I'll keep quite.

Talking about being quite: that snail at the right side won't be saying something either.

It's the 1st perceptible living thing in the pictures of my T-shirts.

It didn't stay that way too long.

It had to be punished.



I tried it again.
Same place, different cellphone.

Colours are different, the light the same.

There is a house. That's the same.

There is cleaning stuff. On shelves now.

Strange that I prefer the other one.