I’m well and done, not baked, at least not anymore.

10 wins, a draw, and a final match left unplayed.  The players hit the field on a tuesday night to cap off the season. At the same time a broadcast is airing nationwide. The Dutch Prime minister is laying down new sets of restrictions. All adult amateur sports are put on hold as the pandemic continues to spread.  That Tuesday night All In Senioren lead in their respective ranking.  

What would it be like to be lost at sea? Afloat, lying on your back, after your arms and legs have given out. The tide acting as a restless but gentle guide on your rather unfortunate voyage across the deep blue. Your entire world. There. Drifting. 

What a time to be alive, and kicking, kicking ass. April started off with sitting on the beaches near the Great Ocean Road (Photoverses: I sat by the ocean) and you joined me in the self isolation on the Mornington Peninsula (Photoverses: Living in a vacuum). Plans fell through, lessons were learned, skills acquired and new projects arose. So, through some good guidance and more by accident than by design I’m finding new ways to express. Shedding light onto-, putting into words-, kicking ass.

Not soon after embarking I knew I was living the dream. Trunk packed to the brim with camera gear and camping equipment. An ‘’eskie’’ full with food, coffee, thee and instant hot choco. And if I would find myself in poor company, a couple of magazines and a journal to boot. Though, for soon after the odometer passed 400 km's I found myself at a crossroads. The literal kind, stuck between two valleys, as well as the figurative. Granted, that took a little longer to figure out.

Dear Ned,