Category: Mental health

The Bridge City Sinners – Trefpunt Ghent

September 22nd had been excitedly marked in my calendar since April, when I saw Clyde McGee open for Pete Bernhard. As with Pete, I knew the band by music, but not the individual members, so I only found out Clyde was one of The Bridge City Sinners on that fateful day in Hulshout. He told me about the Sinners’ European tour in September and October and I was BEYOND stoked to see a Belgian date. I was even more thrilled to be able to share this experience with my newfound friends I’d acquired through the synchronicity of music since his solo performance. 

I was planning on taking an entire day to get ready, dolled up and taking my sweet time going to Ghent. Afterwards driving on to the Belgian coast for a much needed holiday. Alas, fate decided otherwise as an unforeseen and also unmissable event was planned on the same day. My stress level was through the roof in the weeks and days beforehand trying to get my head around a literal (no, really!) rollercoaster of a day into a night where I had to drive myself to a city I didn’t know very well. Let me tell ya, all that stress was so fucking unfounded, when I think back on it now it is almost amusing. 

The day of started earlier than usual and I faced fears I had talked myself into over the years. I used to be brave and fearless, but over the last years depression and battle with neurodivergence had made me small. Small and afraid of EVERYTHING. Doubting I could do ANYTHING. The day was a therapy group outing to an amusement park and to say I was DREADING all of it would be the understatement of the century. Luckily, therapy is teaching me how to face my fears head on. So I did. In line for the first roller coaster, I was hopping from one leg to another, thoughts racing this way and that. I eventually decided to just get over it and DO it, and got on the fucking roller coaster. It was scary at first, but then it was EXHILARATING! After that, I still felt a little trepidation getting on a new coaster, but by the end of the day I was unstoppable. I had faced my fears and WON, telling my brain to shut the fuck up and it actually shutting the fuck up. I had an AMAZING day and was living on adrenaline alone. 

In getting home, the adrenaline unfortunately wore off and I was tired from all the mental and physical gymnastics of the day. So getting ready for the show felt like I was moving in slow motion while getting anxious again for the drive through traffic and rain, on a road I was not familiar with, in a time frame that would mean I would almost definitely miss the opener. I was sad but resigned to the fact that I wouldn’t get the full experience of this night I had been looking forward to for almost 6 months. 

I managed to get my ass on the road eventually and powered through those fears to eventually arrive at my destination. In a daze, I hurriedly speed walked from my parking spot on the outskirts of Ghent to the venue, when I abruptly stopped in my tracks in awe of this quote on the building. Good thing I halted, because in my haste I had almost run past where I actually needed to be and made myself even later.

First I feel I need to emphasise what an AMAZING place Trefpunt is. As if I wasn’t sweaty enough already from the walk there, the indian-summer heat inside was enough to almost melt me away. So yeah, it was sweaty as fuck, punk as fuck but filled to the brim with a merry band of misfits that oozed Purple vibes. It felt like coming home to a room full of strangers. And then I spotted my musical friends I made this year and the last ounce of stress and self-doubt fell off of my sweaty shoulders. I HAD MADE IT!

I even made it in time for the opener Tuesday Violence and HOLY HELL I am so glad I did. A three headed band started during lockdown. You have Daveney, originally from the Netherlands but emigrated here 9 years ago, on drums & vocals. Bruxelloise Crystal is on organ (!) and vocals and Niels from Ghent is on guitar. The sound they produce together is almost indescribable. I wrote it up as incredible punk & roll but they describe it as primitive garage punk. Call it what you will, I will just refer to their sound as extraordinarily FANTASTIC. Crystal & Deveney’s voices were reminiscent of some of my favourite female punkers, like Brody Dalle & the ladies from Maid of Ace. The energy of their set was exhilarating and set the pace for the rest of the night. 

Crystal, Deveney and Niels + yours truly

Aside from being fired up on stage, they were super nice and kind off stage. I got to talking to Deveney & Crystal who told me all about how they started and the amazing backstory on that beautiful organ she was playing on stage. My reference to Maid of Ace (another experience I still have to write about) led to vague plans for a possible ALL FEMALE (and Niels) double bill of both Tuesday Violence & the Maids at the Black Flamingo! (Fingers crossed we can set this up for 2024.) 

In the meantime: check out Tuesday Violence newly released album!

Talking to these ladies was such intriguing fun, we almost missed the start of The Bridge City Sinners set! Time to run back in and claim a place for a piece of musical history Ghent will not soon forget. My lackadaisical approach to picture/video taking should tell you how good of a night it really was. These are meant as mere mementos more than actual good visual and/or auditory representation.

My notes start off with a simple OMG. Because Oh My unholy GOD, if I thought I already adored The Bridge City Sinners on record, it’s a WHOLE other thing seeing them live. I am staring at that stage in ABSOLUTE LOVE and AWE of the glorious mayhem of strings and vocals. The music feels so much more layered while seeing it live, because you can pick apart all the scrumptious little details. I made a video that gives only a vague idea about how epic of a performance it was. (Trust me, it does the evening NO justice at all, but it may give you a slight idea as to what you’ve missed.)

There is just so so much fucking talent on that ONE tiny stage! They all sing (and very well I might add), they all play multiple instruments which they casually switch during the set, like it’s nothing. From banjos to fiddles, from guitars to dobros; topped with a standing bass and a side of madness. 

Aside from the Sinners, they all have several other bands and solo projects going on. That’s the thing about good music. It’s not just a series of notes and words reiterated on a stage. Good musicians and bands LIVE for their music. They breathe the music like it is their oxygen, and every night they play, they exchange that life force with their audience. Only to get recharged night after night and in the meantime honing their skills and getting more extraordinary with every gig.

This is what is happening here, it’s a band of exceptionally talented and dedicated musicians who LOVE what they do and the people they do it with. Every one of them gets their chance to shine on stage, with the wonderful Libby as a master of ceremonies directing her friends to their own spotlight. My hazy notes tell me I was again very much impressed by Clyde’s voice and taken aback when he started grunting during one song. The banjolos (not one BUT AT LEAST TWO) were mentioned as well. I was also very impressed by Lightin’ Luke and his fiddlework and something else he was doing because I wrote down ‘The fuck is he playing? Woap wap?’. Alas, I have no clue what I am referencing here, but all of these weird obscure scribblings just prove it was such a good show, I lost all sense of making sense. And that’s the way I like it.

My notes do however mention my admiration of Joey Steel, who acts as the tour manager for The Sinners’ European Vacation. He’s running around before, during and after the gig, setting everything up so that the band can just focus on doing what they do best. Meanwhile, he still makes the time to greet me with a big hug, in between all his hauling around and setting up. Joey Steel, hardest working man in showbiz and still so fucking nice!💜 (We’ll even forgive him for turning on the venue’s lights for that one brief moment where he paused and leaned against the wall!) 

Near the end of their set, there is one special moment where Libby dedicates the following song to Tomas, their friend and the lead singer of Profane Sass who died on the road. The song was written for him, upon learning of his untimely death. The ways she talked about him and in reading up on him, it seems he was one of those one of a kind, magical people who radiated goodness and life force all around. He lived for the music and what that music could bring to people. I never knew him while he was alive, but it’s beautiful to see he’s still on the road, through his friends and touching people’s hearts. 

The set up until then had already been absolutely amazing, but this was a beautiful moment that put the cherry on top. A moment of musical synchronicity for me, especially when she sang the words “Out of the darkness and heading out to sea”. I reflected on my own journey out of the darkness surrounding death and my journey ahead to the sea. The lyrics would prove to be even more synchronicitous a few days later when I yelled them into the surf. It’s one of those moments I will never forget. A moment, a story, a song and a band etched onto my soul forever. 

The Bridge City Sinners probably don’t even fully know just how phenomenal and rare it is what they do, what they bring to their audience. If they do, it certainly doesn’t show in their attitudes because the Sinners I got to talk to are wonderfully down to earth. 

There are no accurate words to describe the atmosphere in that venue, which was bulging at the seams at this impossibly perfect event. The band said it themselves, this would probably be the last tour they’ll be able to play smaller and more intimate venues like Trefpunt. I am SO ecstatic I got to be there, to experience up close and personal the intoxicating chaos and fury with which the Sinners approach their live sets. 

After the show I still have a ways to go even though I wrote down that I am not sure just how my legs are still functional. I am completely running on fumes and adrenaline. I walk back to the car with Jo & Tiho through a calm and peaceful city and drive up to the coast where I still find a last mere ounce of fuel to unload all my shit. I then collapse onto the bed for a happy and well earned slumber, not yet fully aware of the catharsis I just experienced and the one that still lays ahead.

Follow The Bridge City Sinners

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Gipsy, Kiel and Coco – A Story of musical synchronicity in Three Parts | Part 3: Coco and musical synchronicity

Part 3: Coco and Musical Synchronicity.

This is another series about synchronicity in music and synchronicity in threes. At the end of summer I was starting to get too far away from the feeling that the synchronicitous threes, rainbows and music had evoked. I was starting to treat writing about my musical encounters like a job, when music is really a calling to me. Music is calling to me and has been this whole year. One way or another. And that’s how it should stay, so I am documenting this to help me remember. 

In three simple nights, I am right back to where it started in March. I feel the surge of my purpose, the burn of why this all came along my path when it did, and the love for the music and artists and all the Purple People in their entourage. With music as my spirit guide, to lead me on a new path in life. The Purple thread I follow along the road to the best version of my self. 

In Part one, we find ourselves in The Black Flamingo.
In Part two, we spend some time at De Floeren Aap.
In this third and final part I am on the sofa, watching the movie Coco.

I’m writing this all down so I can finally learn to remember to never forget. Because it is so easily forgotten. I am posting this from a place where I am on the brink of having forgotten again. Where I can barely believe the words I have written here myself. Where all I want to do is shut out the world entirely. I am desperately retraining my mind to latch onto the positives as eagerly as it embraces the negatives. Searching for an upward spiral of sorts, away from the abyss. So here goes.

Around the time of Gipsy & Kiel’s tour, there is a lot going on in my life all at the same time. Life usually is a bit messy at the best of times, but this period contains a combination of stressors which make it even more difficult. Part of that mess is the fact that it is September, and almost a year ago that I had lost my father to a devastating disease. Remembering the feelings from sitting by his sickbed, seeing him turn into a shadow of his former self is weighing me down. During the year I had found him looking on in the musical synchronicity, which had helped me tremendously in my grieving process. 

I was starting to lose the connection. In the turmoil I found myself in, I started to roll back into old habits and feelings of hopelessness. I was still bathing in the music, revelling in its beauty. But I lost track of what had been the most important about it, what it actually signified. The hope of another life, another me who was strengthened and lifted up by the music as a sort of harness against the perils of the world. I still felt the beauty, but no longer the surge of strength it brought me. I could feel myself slipping away again in all the wrong coping strategies. 

I’d nearly hit bottom again. I was losing myself in grief, sadness and anger and could feel my sense of self become smaller again. After another awful day where the feelings of helplessness and hopelessness prevailed, everything inside me was screaming to stay in and shut myself away from the world. But I didn’t, I forced myself to go against that feeling and I went to The Black Flamingo instead. I let myself drift on the waves of music that Gipsy and Kiel brought with them. I got to feel that warm hug of those Purple people around me again. (And that one guy, but you know, sometimes it takes something appalling to let the good shine out even more. I was intently protected from his aura of awful by those around.)

It didn’t really sink in until the show on Monday though. I’d felt my dad there again, in The Black Flamingo. In the music. I heard it again in de Floeren Aap. He would have absolutely loved Gipsy Rufina and Kiel Grove. While hanging out with Ann we were talking each others ears off about just about anything. And it hit me, these are the types of people I need in my life. Full of positive energy, dreams and crazy life plans. Full of an all consuming LOVE and ADORATION for things. Around people like this, I don’t have to put bits of myself away. I don’t have to wear a mask or pretend, I get to wear my heart on my sleeve, where it should be! Somewhere the conversation turned to the tattoo Ann had of Dante, the dog from Coco. I had been contemplating watching that movie again because I was thinking of my dad and all those who went before him.

When the day of the third Gipsy/Kiel show came and my body screamed at me to give it some rest, I decided to give in to self care and self comfort. With a blanket and cat at the ready, I put on Coco and floated away in a world of music and colour. 

It underlined everything I have lived and learned through music since March. A story of a grieving process through finding myself again, finding my way to my people again and with music as a giant Purple thread throughout all of it. Coco is all about honouring your dead and speaking their name. It’s about destiny. Of going against the grain, about not just following the road of what is expected of you. About a belief in yourself that you cannot let go.  

Music is part of my destiny, in one form or another. Music as the fuel for my words and art. Music as a life force driving me from one place to another, discovering the world and its people. Music as a form of therapy, mindfulness and anti-depressant. In making it myself eventually. (Though I have still yet to successfully form or keep a band.) It’ll always be there alongside of me, in one form or another. I need to keep seeing it, feeling the fuel of it. 

My road seems riddled now with little reminders to it. At the end of the month, the day of the wild Bridge City Sinners gig, I am on a group outing. Suddenly, I am surrounded by the colour and wonder of Coco in this Dia de Los Muertos decor.

I smile and walk through it. Putting in my earbuds and FEELING the music that is playing. I want and NEED to learn to keep my eyes and ears open for these reminders of the beauty. It’s so easy to miss it all in the overwhelm when your senses get glazed over by the mist of darkness.

So I am leaving this note here. As a light, a shining beacon of how it can be, if I remember to REALLY see.

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Seaside musings, a coastal diary series. (Part THREE – Scene SIX)

SIX | Strength through Music.

PART THREE- SCENE SIX
Monday, September 25th, 2023

FADE IN:
EXT. SEASIDE BUNKER IN THE DUNES, NIEUWPOORT BELGIUM – EVENING

My trip into the Flanders Fields left me feeling dejected. Even though it had been a nice day out, both in a trip and weather sense, I felt the weight of death on my shoulders. The deaths of all those soldiers, fighting a war others waged for them. Seeing those graves in Steenkerke with all those young boys’ names and the memorial in Ramskapelle got me in a gloomy mood. And of course, closer to home and heart, all the memories of my dad dredged up by those two places left me feeling disconsolate. 

While catching my breath on the terrace, I see this beautiful rainbow in the sky. Aside from the music, the number three and feathers, there’d been a lot of synchronicitous rainbows this year too.

I take it as a sign for me to venture out again, clearing my head of the contemplative cobwebs. Another sunset stroll on the beach it is. This time I walk away from Nieuwpoort beach, in the direction of the Ter Yde Dunes nature reserve in Oostduinkerke. 

It starts off as another magical walk, reminiscing on the beautiful musical rainbows. I have yet to regale you with the tale of meeting the beautiful ultra-purple person that is Joey Henry, whom I met somewhere at the start of August. I haven’t had the time to find the right words to describe the two nights I spent with him and his music. They will roll out in due time.

Let’s just say that aside from being an immensely talented musician, he’s also a phenomenal photographer. I snagged one of his prints, Kansas rainbow included, at the first of his shows I saw at Den Oude Ketel. (Yes, the very same spot where I saw that other impossible rainbow months earlier, after that magical James Hunnicutt set.)

Kansas Rainbow print by Joey Henry

All this to say, I had rainbows, music and photography on my mind. So I channel my inner puddle & cloud photographer as I set off along the empty shoreline, singing loudly.

I see the bunker and walk back up the beach and climb to the crest of the dunes. I sit and rest, taking in the amazing sight of the sunset from my vantage point. 

I decide to walk back before I lose the light completely. I put in my earbuds and start my playlist at random when of course, none other than ‘In the Mirror’ by The Interrupters starts playing. The song that started off this series, and the one I was singing just moments earlier.

I wander further along the waves, howling along to Raised by Wolves. This is so cathartic I decide to delve deeper into the melancholy.

James Hunnicutt live at The Black Flamingo (With Fritz and the Reverend from Whiskey Dick)

I start off with ‘Don’t let teardrops fill your eyes’ by James Hunnicutt and of course, teardrops start filling my eyes, like this song invariably seems to do. I send him a text scolding him for this awfully amazing song and thanking him profoundly for what it keeps doing to me. 💜💜💜

It leads me to the playlist we played at my dad’s funeral starting with ‘De Grote Voyage’ by Willem Vermandere, whose house I just sat in front of earlier that day.

I’m sobbing and laughing, feeling everything all at once. A beautiful mess of BIG emotions. I scream the lyrics into the void of the sea. I walk on with ‘We’ll meet again’ by Johnny Cash in my ears. It feels like my father is looking on and saying to me, though Johnny’s baritone timbre:

“Keep smiling through
Just like you always do
‘Til the blue skies chase those dark clouds far away”

We’ll Meet Again – Johnny Cash

So I walk on. With a smile on my face. Deciding to go for some fries at a snackbar with a cute dog in their logo.The nice purple people saw I was taking a pic and invited the critter himself over.

The dog is named Gaspard, and he reminded me (in more ways than one) of Gaspode from Discworld, only one of my favourite characters in the series. I mean. Talk about everything being connected. (In MY mind at least. It’s a special place inside my skull, I like it here, even though it is always just a little on fire.)

He starts cuddling up to me and I am sobbing while smiling again. One of the last conversations I remember having with my dad, is about cuddling up to a dog and the horse Iyota from hippo-therapy and telling him how happy it had made me. And him reponding thoughtfully ‘They know, you know, they sense it’ even though I never truly told him how dark the thoughts beforehand had been. I love you, Gaspard people and especially you my little doggo friend! (Great fries too!)

After another doggie selfie, this time with the Nieuwpoort Saint-Bernard, who fills me with SO MANY youthful family memories again, it is time to go back home.

I fall asleep like a log and wake up in the middle of the night. I go onto the balcony for another breath of fresh air and drink in the silence. And just as I think to myself ‘All is quiet on the Western Front’, I see a fisher boat with a huge flock of LOUD seagulls in tow.

I see you dad, I hear you. Good night. 

PS: The title of this blog refers to yet another song. About death. Suprise. It didn’t fit in with the rest of the sentiment of this post so I added it here, as an aside. I’d say ‘enjoy’, but it is definitely not that type of song. It is pretty damn haunting.

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Seaside musings, a coastal diary series. (Part THREE – Scene FIVE)

FIVE | In Flanders Fields.

PART THREE – SCENE FIVE
Monday, September 25th, 2023

FADE IN:
EXT. GRAVEYARD GRASS, STEENKERKE BELGIUM – AFTERNOON

Every time we came on a family trip to the coast, there was one specific trip inland. A visit to the city of Veurne and/or walking through the sleepy fields of Oeren nearby. A walk to the MiniPri where we got to pick out ONE TOY. It was a HUGE toy store in my memory, but turns out to be a store with one toy aisle. (Time has stood still there, they still sell Britney Spears & Eminem posters from the early nillies. It’s a little weird, but comforting nonetheless.)

So my search for treasured memories drives me inland today, to the quiet town of Steenkerke in that same region.

When I was old enough to go to the coast myself, my dad gave me the same advice every time: ‘Jul, you have to go to Steenkerke’. And then when I was there, a message: ‘Jul, have you been to Steenkerke?’. It had everything to do with his love for music and art, which combined itself in the Flemish artist Willem Vermandere. A philosopher, poet, writer, etcher, painter, sculptor and a singer-songwriter with an impressive oeuvre.

Two years ago, I finally listened and fell deeply in love with the artist who’d I’d only heard of in passing before. I read (and immediately bought) his book Als ‘t maar Geestig is and set off to discover his hometown Steenkerke.

On the way to and from there, I was entranced by his music that fit so well with the scenery of the Flanders Fields. Some of it light-hearted, but some deeply rooted in the horrible happenings in those fields, like the album Altijd iemands vader, altijd iemands kind (Always someone’s father, always someone’s child). It’s a true masterpiece of musical storytelling.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KyKEbumYmfc

In Steenkerke, like in so many places around West-Flanders, there’s a military graveyard from the first World War, with graves of too many young men who lost their lives in a cruel and useless war. (Like there is any other kind.) This visit in 2021, combined with my journey to Ypres, where I was moved to tears by the daily tribute of The Last post at the Menin gate, inspired me to make my own piece of protest-art.

Within this collage I sprinkled in some music which reminds me of the wars of my lifetime. The ones fought in Iraq and Afghanistan, after 9/11 happened, which in turn made me VERY conscious of world politics. The skull is made up of the lyrics to the heartwrenching song Hero of War by Rise Against and I added in the title of Let them Eat War by Bad Religion. 

It was reading Willem Vermandere’s book that drove me to enrol in the Art Academy, where I found joy in creating again after a very long hiatus. This was the first piece I made after some dark years where I lost my passion for creation. In a way, Vermandere was the instigator for the Clumsy Crane Studio Instagram that now also includes my great love of writing. The music has ALWAYS been a common thread on the page, all my own favourite pieces of art were inspired by or named for songs.

Back to Steenkerke. My plan for today was to spend an afternoon on the terrace of his favourite pub, one he wrote this song about. (It was the place where I bought the book and enjoyed a nice local beer on the last my last visit, as pictured above.) Alas, this being after the high season, the café was closed for a yearly holiday. I saw my plans for writing with the church in back of me, his house in front of me and his spirit near me fade away. But then I find this spot in the grass and decide to start writing there, overlooking the polder. 

The sound of nature takes over and I realise this is the better option. Writing with a bunch of bike tourists surrounding me would have been another experience indeed. All I hear now is the wind gently caressing the leaves of the trees and about ten different species of bird tweeting merrily away. Somewhere in the distance I hear some church bells jingling a joyful tune. Around me there’s the fluttering of butterflies, ladybugs and other summery critters enjoying the last rays of sun. 

In this sleepy silent town I seem to be completely on my own. Alone, but not lonely. I am surrounded by memories and profoundly content with my own company. Feeling that artful soul across the street brings some extra oxygen. As if a cosmic connection is supporting me while writing. I lie back and stare at the clouds and drink it all in. 

There’s the tiny church behind me, filled with some of his beautiful works of art. He wrote the following song about it. My favourite lyric is this:

O ik wil het al nog geiren geloven,
dat mirakel van die zes kruiken wijn
en van Lazarus die al drie dagen dood was,
were levend, meer moet dat nie zijn.

Dat is ‘t werk van zangers en dichters,
als ‘t maar rijmt, is ‘t een fluitje van ne cent,
dat Jezus zijn moeder nog maagd was,
is dat geen geestig vertellement!

Roughly translated that goes:

Oh, I want to gladly believe it all
The miracle of those six jugs of wine
And of Lazarus who’d been dead for three days
Alive again, that’s all it takes.

That’s the work of singers and poets,
If it just rhymes, it’s a piece of cake,
That Jesus’ mother was still a virgin,
Isn’t that a droll tale

After I’m done writing, I step into the church to wander past Vermandere’s paintings, etches and sculptures again. I refrain from putting his music on because the Gregorian church music, which I kind of really despise and always have, reminds me of my father again. I take my sweet time looking at every piece in detail and marvel at the imagery and colours. 

The beauty and intricacy of the works doesn’t really translate into pictures.  I get especially transfixed by this one, drinking in every brushstroke and bit of shading in these striking colours with hungry (and quite frankly a little jealous) eyes.

In trying to research what this piece is called (no luck yet), I just found out this piece I saw on my first night in Nieuwpoort. It was made in remembrance of the Great War and is called Verzoening or Atonement. It is placed on the geographical starting point of the Western Front right near the pier.

I walk back out of the church, put on my hiking boots and wander off in the distance. After a while, my thirst, which I was supposed to quench at that little terrace, takes over. Nothing is open within walking distance, so I decide to drive over to Ramskapelle and I unknowingly end up at the perfect writing spot. Another place where time stood still, with a slightly camp but lovely decorated terrace and some beautiful inspiring wall art. 

A chill and very 80s soundtrack in the background, a very LOUD but soothing conversation between two local ladies in that lovely West-Flanders dialect and some nice regional beers on the menu. The air feels warm, and smells of a rain shower that never happens. What else could a person want? Fate drove me here. I start writing. Crocodile Rock jumps on in the background. I smile and think of Joey Clyde. 

Before going home I honour my farmer family roots by making friends with a sheep and admiring some farming equipment. Dad would have been proud of me today.

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Seaside musings, a coastal diary series. (Part TWO – Scene FOUR)

FOUR | Soundtrack With a View.

PART TWO – SCENE FOUR
Sunday, September 24th, 2023

FADE IN:
EXT. NORTH SEA SHORELINE & BEACH BAR , NIEUWPOORT BELGIUM
– AFTERNOON TILL EARLY EVENING

With the work on my website done, it’s time to go out and play in the sun! Time to chase my fever dreams and finally dig my toes into the sand. My feet firmly stuck in the sea, feeling the waves splash against my legs and my hair getting tussled by the wind. And in this moment I am happy. Cue another song’s lyrics getting stuck on loop in my brain. I can’t say I even mind.

I dig my toes into the sand
The ocean looks like a thousand diamonds strewn across a blue blanket
I lean against the wind, pretend that I am weightless
And in this moment I am happy, happy

Incubus – Wish You Were Here

After some more splishing and splashing through the surf, I end up near a shrimp fisher. My bird watchers book had taught me earlier that the ebb is a fine time for admiring the flocks of birds cruising the shore for some snacks. Boy, was I in for a treat myself! A gigantic flock of seagulls (quite possibly European Herring Gulls to be more specific.) is having a feast of seaside spoils. Time for a photoshoot!

  • Seagull feeding on Nieuwpoort Beach
  • Seagull feeding on Nieuwpoort Beach
  • Seagulls feeding on Nieuwpoort Beach
  • Seagulls feeding on Nieuwpoort Beach
  • Seagulls feeding on Nieuwpoort Beach
  • Seagulls feeding on Nieuwpoort Beach
  • Seagulls feeding on Nieuwpoort Beach
  • Seagulls feeding on Nieuwpoort Beach
  • Julie and her birb friends

Eventually my sore legs and feet drag me back to the same beach bar from yesterday where I score another swing seat. Commence three hours of languidly scrolling, writing, drawing and watching cute doggies frolic in the sand.

Instagram treats me to some Jen Razavi and I am immediately back in Duffel at the start of August. (Another of my stories on backlog, where I will tell you about the amazing Women of Brakrock.) I am falling back into memories of music, so I put on some tunes while writing this. Am not disappointed. It starts off with The Devil Makes three, follows up with some Bridge City Sinners and then falls into this one:

Well, I am not drunk as hell, but I am definitely enjoying my local beer, drinking in this amazing view and those BEAUTIFUL CLOUDS.

The music seeps in again as I am enjoying the nice weather. A slightly more prominent sea wind than yesterday rocks me gently in my seat. And in this moment I am happy. Happily enjoying the break from the chaos, both good and bad, from the last years. Joyously revelling in the good company of the music in my ears and wind in my hair. 

With my shoes strung across my shoulders, I walk home barefoot. I don’t think I’ve ever felt the concept of mindfulness as deeply as I did today. The sand and water around my ankles, the sun on my face and the wind blowing all worries away.

Mindfully enjoying the clouds

Admiring the cloudy views and feeling the stones of a slightly altered version of my childhood under my feet. I cannot help but smile.

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Seaside musings, a coastal diary series. (Part TWO – Scene THREE)

Joey Clyde the crocodile, working on DownSideUp

THREE | Musical Synchronicity in Full Swing

PART TWO – SCENE THREE
Sunday, September 24th, 2023

FADE IN:
INT. FAMILY APARTMENT, NIEUWPOORT BELGIUM – MORNING

See me sitting at the computer, trusted cup of coffee at hand, clicking and typing industriously. I am finally getting around to updating my website, reworking the layout of the basic pages. I had been meaning to do this overhaul for a while now, but I kept postponing it because life was happening. I was also having too much fun documenting all of those happenings in the words you read on here. Which is perfectly fine. Live while I’m alive and sleep when I am dead and all that, as Bon Jovi used to sing. 

Today however, I do have a use for this restful Sunday. While the coastal town is busy bustling with activity, I am avoiding all that hustle by web designing with a view. It is nice to take a break for once. I’d been running on fumes for a while now, as I spoke about at length in the first part of this seaside series. But it wasn’t all stress and bad energy that left me in need of a break. After resurfacing from the dark abyss, I found the music again with Pete Bernhard at The Black Flamingo in March and I haven’t stopped seeing amazing shows (both large and small) since then. 

On my fathers birthday in April and the second show of Pete’s I saw, I decided to get DownSideUp going again. I will be eternally grateful to Jo because as I said before , he played an integral part in me firing this website up again. Me being my neurodivergent self, I needed this space back online as soon as I could. This meant not thinking too much about where I wanted to go with this, and just throwing something together to get to posting. I didn’t want to lose myself in my overly perfectionist former marketing & communications self, and lose the momentum of writing. I am so glad I told UX, SEO and all that jazz to fuck right off. 

But today, I carved out a bit of time to rework and translate. The design is still far from perfect, but from now on I live by the creed that done is always better than perfect. (And to be fair, perfection probably doesn’t even really exist, another man-made concept to steer clear of.) In any case, at least now the setup makes more sense and brings focus to what is the most important: THE WORDS! And seeing as how my bilingual narrator writes in both Dutch and English, I decided to translate the basic pages to the latter language. Most Flemish and Dutch people understand English anyway and I’m making international friends again who wouldn’t be able to understand the Dutch bits. So there, fixed(-ish). 

Hunger calls me back to reality and I venture out for some much needed carbs to accompany my lovely meaty treat I bought yesterday. Something pulls at my gut again and I step into a store on the way back. There I find this cutie calling my name. My neurodivergent ass LOVES stuffed animals, so I could not resist when I saw this soft crocco-fella. 

Julie happily smiling while holding her new friend

On the way home I named him Joey Clyde, for Joey Steel and Clyde McGee, as a reminder of a spectacular Friday and this subsequent ‘finding myself’ holiday at the coast. You will remember Clyde from that fateful Pete Bernhard gig in April at Tequila Tattoos, that helped set things in motion for the reemergence of DownSideUp. He’d promised me then to get me on the guestlist for his Bridge City Sinners show, which he graciously did. (Remember that BEST GIG OF THE YEAR bit in part one of this series? Yes, it was them. I will tell you ALL about it in due time.) Synchronicitous as always, this song starts playing in my headphones while I am writing this. 

But have I told you about my friend Joey? I met him last year at Punk in Drublic and we have kept in contact ever since. He’s an amazing musician and singer in FIVE bands, an anarchist and LGBTQIA+ ally, a great thinker and self proclaimed shit talker, with his own most interesting podcast ‘Dispatches from the Underground‘. He’s also a tour manager and any band fortunate enough to count them into their entourage, should thank their lucky stars. (He will be prominently featured in the imminent Bridge City Sinners post.)

Thanks to Joey, I got to invite Jo, Tiho and Ann & David (Whom I’d met at the Whiskey Dick/James Hunnicutt double bill at The Black Flamingo. More on them later, because the music brought us back together for Gipsy Rufina and Kiel Grove a few weeks ago. That is YET ANOTHER series of posts I am working on!) to experience the chaos that was that amazing Bridge City Sinners gig with me. He made that night even more special for me, because I could share the music and pay it all forward by getting those lovely people on the guest list.

When I got to the apartment, I noticed Joey Clyde had a stitch loose on his neck which I fixed with needle and thread, giving him a badass scar. Joey recently underwent a major surgery, resulting in a similarly badass scar on his neck. Musical synchronicity in full force right there. (Have you noticed this is scene three? I HAVE!) 

Me and Joey at Trefpunt Gent after the Bridge City Sinners show

I will forever treasure my new crocodile friend Joey Clyde as a visual reminder of a mindblowing night and seaside holiday.

Tiho, me and Clyde at Trefpunt Gent after the Bridge City Sinners show

Follow Clyde McGee:

And check out his bands:

  • Bridge City Sinners
  • Clyde and the Milltailers

Follow Joey Steel:

And check out his bands:

  • All Torn Up!
  • Skull Caster
  • Cop/Out
  • JS & the Attitude Adjusters
  • Bowhead
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Seaside musings, a coastal diary series. (Part ONE – Scene TWO)

Julie at sundown in Nieuwpoort

TWO | Before Sunset, Before Sunrise

PART ONE – SCENE TWO
Saturday, September 23rd, 2023

FADE IN:
EXT. NORTH SEA SHORELINE, NIEUWPOORT BELGIUM – EVENING/NIGHT

Here I am, walking along the shoreline while the sun is setting behind me.

I came to look at the sunset from the vantage point of the dunes, but something pulled me to the water’s edge. Though there are still plenty of people out and about, it feels like at this moment it is just me, the wind and the waves. 

waves crashing into the shoreline

No music this time, except the sound mother nature provides. The rushing of the waves into the shoreline and the wind whooshing along in harmony.

This most soothing silent sound fills my world. A panoptic blanket of white noise takes me in its arms and shelters me from the rest of the world around me. 

I spot a few washed up jellyfish and get completely entranced and start taking pictures. The light hits them just right. What an amazing sight to see.

A little sad and melancholy as well, since chances are these graceful yet delicate sea creatures are dead or dying.


That’s nature for you. The undercurrent brings the jellyfish to the surface, where they wash up on shore and dehydrate. The sea is as cruel as it is soothing. 

In creeps the music again, (As if I could ever avoid it.) by way of this Flogging Molly Sea Shanty ‘Cruel Mistress’ worming it’s way into my brain.

But actually, the sea is neither cruel nor kind. That’s what man made of it, anthropomorphising a body of water out of fear and misunderstanding. The sea lives and is in turn teaming with life, both above and below the surface. Yet it can never be cruel, nor can it be kind, because it simply gives no fucks. The sea just exists in a series of ebb and flow movements, drawn in and out by the gravitational pull of the moon. Ebb and flow. Ebb and flow. Ebb and flow. Day in and day out. To be more like the sea… 

Nieuwpoort Pier, seaside view, night

There’s a therapy analogy that helps you look at recovery from depression and burnout (and pretty much life in general) as a series of waves. You cannot be happy all the time and you will not be sad all the time. My life over the years has felt like a road of sky-scraping peaks and rock bottom valleys. Losing so much of myself in the darkness of those deep chasms. My sense of self. My sense of wonder. The things I am good at, and the things I love doing. Writing is one of those, but photography used to be that as well. 

Well, this moment in time is where I draw the line in the sand and say: no more of that. Yes there will be ups and downs, there always are in life. But from now on I will be more like the sea, a slow and steady ebb and flow. Because there’s always a new day tomorrow, where the moon can pull on me again to bring me onto shore. 

As I walk up the pier, smiling when I hear two kids singing ‘Laat ons een bloem’ by Louis Neefs. Another song that is filled with fond memories of family, the child within me and so many more I can’t even begin to list. I keep walking, entranced by the view, the sounds, and the activity of the night-fisherpeople.

It is again so fitting, so synchronicitous to hear this song at this point in time. See me walking into the future, with the music as my compass and guiding light. 💜

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