| What are we doing?
May 14th, 2004 Eeks. I woke at six this morning, from a restless, tossing sleep (caused by the replaying, in my head, of images of the beheading of Nick Berg in Iraq - horrible, but, as I wrote to someone yesterady, I refuse to associate this with the Islam in general, and/or with all muslims. If we do that with things like these, we only play into the hands of the bad ones among them. Assholes are assholes, be they muslim, christian, hindu or buddhist). And when I awoke, I smelled candle. Candle? CANDLE?? I was up and out of bed in a flash. The place turned out to be filled up with smoke, one of those fine mists of grey wisps. Some walking to and fro did not render a hotbed. Walking somewhat further, did produce a neighbour who, thankfully, was still in good health, awakened by me. Together, we failed to locate the seat of the fire, but decided to call 112 (Dutch equivalent of 911). As I went down to the frontdoor of the building the Vide is in, in order to open it and await the fire brigade there, Bert did some further investigating on the lower floor. There, he found the cause of the hotbed, just as Gerard, who had only just arrived in the Vide to work there, together with me, found it from the opposite side too: a burning wastebin in the studio directly below me. It was extinguished by the time the fire brigade, three engines strong and accompanied by 1 police car, arrived (and they did so swiftly, by the by, for we wrote 06:15). All's well that ends well (the windows, upon writing this, are still open on both sides though, in order to let the smoke dissipate). But Gerard blandly told me that the artist below me "does this more often, but usually on a metal sheet, so it usually does no harm". Yeah right. I'm telling you, I'm going to teach him not to, no more. |
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