Living the bubble

Everyone lives in a bubble, this is inevitable because we grow up in a certain environment and society, in which we are educated to live according to the existent rules. As a child you are not even aware of it as long as the bubble is good for you. Of course your parents usually provide themselves and their children with the best one available, following - not all of them - in the footsteps of their parents. This is all dependent on the time and place where one is born. The problem can arise when you realize that their bubble is not yours, and yet as an adult I began to realize, that they had, unknown to themselves, trained me for the things that laid ahead, and given me many tools to be used when creating my own bubble.
I was born nine years after WWII and in The Netherlands, people like my family, had a hard time to keep themselves financial floating. But, growing up like this was my reality, because everybody else lived in the same situation. I was a sandwich child in a family of eight where dad was the provider and mom was running the household. Of course we all had to chip in, and learn to live according to strict rules, which we, as youngsters’ usually, are not so happy about. And yet, very soon I knew that cooperating with this institution was the best option.
In the early spring of 1979 I decided to quite my quite boring job and make a long trip, to become a world traveler. I knew I had to leave my safe bubble, had outgrown it, and in my mind I closed that door for good. Israel and the kibbutz was an option as so many had done before me. In Netanya I took a waitress job and found a place to sleep. Loved the country at first sight, feeling as if I went back ten years in time. Such a different culture, a language I did not understand, made trips on my own. Walked as if on air through medieval Old Jerusalem, visited El Aksa, looked down at its black rock, stood in front of the Wailing Wall, and to my utter surprise saw for the first time the master drawings of Rembrandt van Rijn in the Israel Museum in Jerusalem.
In short: I learned Hebrew, and Israel’s history, married the restaurant owner in Netanya, my son and daughter were born there. In 1991, I graduated from Avni Institute of Art and Design in Tel Aviv and had my first abstract paintings show some years later. After having visited Italy for several times I became interested in Italy’s second war for independence. I had never heard of that event, and began to research and write my book A Mind Behind on this subject in 2018.
The door of my bubble of youth had never been closed, but had helped creating my new reality.

Post Views : 38