Plot twist: Noodweer, Japan and paintings.

Four years ago Chris and I set up an exhibition for my artwork. By change we got our hands on a really nice space and asked 2 other artists to join in. After the first exhibition we were able to stay a bit longer and set up another one, and then another. Gallery Noodweer was born. Eventually the owner found someone who wanted to rent the space so we had to move on. But we'd had so much fun organizing this we decided to look for a new space and continue our work. And now are yet again forced to move out of the space we have, for the 4th time in as many years. After some debate we decided it is time to finish this project and move on. We had a great time. We learned a lot. Hopefully we inspired others as much as they inspired us. As much as we regret having to quit we came to the conclusion that, right now, in this economic climate, it is simply not possible to run a gallery in this set up. We have one final exhibition in February by Boukje van Iperen which I am really looking forward to. Her work is amazing and I'm glad we can finish with a bang.

 

 

 



So what happens to Noodweer? We need to take a look at what we want, what we want it to mean, what we want to do for people, and how we would want to achieve that. I'm not sure yet how this will take shape. It will take some time to re-evaluate everything that has happened and also to get over our loss. I'm sure Chris and I will collaborate again in the future but right now we need a bit of a breather.

This didn't just happen yesterday so I have had some time to think. I have been thinking a lot about that I want to do with my life in general lately. I had been making plans to go abroad for a while; move to Japan and see if I would have more luck there with my artwork. But then I realized it's hard to get visa so I started looking for easy ways to get one. And then I started looking at courses and job options and before I knew it all these things were no longer about art. Losing Noodweer made me realize that art really is the most important thing in my life and my main focus should really be on my art. I keep losing myself in distractions and I'm not getting anywhere with my career as an artist. I need to stop doing that. I would still love to go to Japan for a while. I love to travel anyway and I would really like to again. But it's not something I should pursue in a way that means sacrificing my art. I need to start taking my work seriously. If I don't, no one else will. Why is this so hard? Because it's got my blood, sweat and tears in it. It's my hopes and dream, my fears and nightmares. My soul. And having that rejected is the hardest thing there is. There is no way I can make it as an artist without going through a lot of rejection first and that part really, really sucks. I'm dreading that part. I know how hard it is going to be as I have tried it before and didn't make it. But this time I feel like I am ready and somehow the idea of succeeding is starting to get scary as well. What do I do then? I know it's way to early to start worrying about that. I still have a long way to go. It's time to take a deep breath and dive in.

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Things are getting real.

Last night I helped a friend pick up a stove she had bought second hand. When we got there the guy selling it showed us where he had stored it and nodded at me: you take that side and we'll carry it together. There was no question of my female friend carrying it what so ever. This was a man's job. It didn't matter that my friend is probably stronger then that guy was, or that it was her stove. We were men and this is what we do.

Last week I helped out filming a Virtual Pump DVD. Me and that same friend are in the background with our barbells. It was quite an interesting experience. I haven't seen the final results yet and I have no idea how I look on camera but they did post a picture online of the V-Pump team. Of course they tagged me on facebook. An old friend of mine, who I haven't seen in ages, sent me a PM. At first she had just recognized my friend and hadn't really paid attention to the three guys in the picture. And then she noticed I was tagged and it was me. It seems I have changed so much that, at first glance, I don't look like my old girly self any more but really look like a regular guy.

And then there is the new gym I'm going to where I'm 'stealth' and no one knows I'm trans and no one bats an eye when I walk into the men's room.

When I started thinking about transition it was all very abstract. You have some idea of what it might be like but you're not sure. You see other people do it and think it sounds like a good idea. You listen to their experiences, watch people on the street, observe how they behave and everything. You think a lot. But that's all theory. You have no idea what it will feel like. You might think you do, but you don't. No one can tell you what it's like. It's different for everyone. At some point you just know you can't keep going the way you used to and something needs to change. So you take the plunge and you start your journey. And then it becomes a bit like having a baby. You have this long period of waiting, of growing and changing, before it becomes real. A lot of people might think that the surgery is like the birth. I'm expecting the same thing. But sometimes I notice that's not completely true. Unlike having a baby transition is something that happens more gradually. I know quite a few people now who have never known me as a girl. And some people don't even know I'm trans. Experiences like I just described make it real. Slowly you move from 'I think I should be a guy' to 'I'm going to become a guy' to 'I actually am a guy'. Theory becomes reality. It's no longer just in my head. I'm living it. I can feel myself shifting into a new state of being, closer to my true self. I used to really dislike myself but that feeling is slowly disappearing and being replaced by a new confidence I had never experienced before. This isn't just about becoming a man. This is about becoming myself, more then anything else. I am growing in ways I never thought possible. And this is just the beginning. Once I've had my surgery and changed my passport my transition may be finished but my journey will finally begin.

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Into the men's locker room.

Now I don't teach at a gym anymore I suddenly have to pay to be there instead of getting paid. This has had some consequences for my financial state as you would expect. So as a result I have moved to a different gym. A new place where nobody knows me. After some debate I decided to sign up at The Spartan. Also because they have memberships for 3 months and if you sign up in January you get one month for free. This means my membership expires right at the time when I have my surgery. Perfect timing. That way I can relax and take the time I need to recover without feeling the pressure of "I should be at the gym!" I know it's mental but at some point working out becomes a way of life.

http://www.lkvdespartaan.nl/home

The Spartan is an old fashioned gym. I'm not even sure if they really have any classes even though they claim to have aerobics. What they do have is one room for cardio, one with just machines for fitness, and two more with some fitness machines and also an insane amount of free weights. Rows and rows of dumbbells. Huge stacks of disks. The testosterone hits you right in the face when you walk in there. There is a lady's locker room upstairs but I haven't seen any women in there today. In the building that is. I didn't go into the lady's room. When I signed up they didn't need my passport. You just pay for the 3 months in one go and if you want to stay longer you just pay again. Very simple. After I signed up he gave me a key for one of the lockers and pointed to the dressing room. That way. The label on the key said: 19, men. So that was it. I didn't feel like explaining I couldn't shower in there so I decided to just take the plunge and go for it. I took a deep breath and walking in.

There were 3 men in there, talking. They looked at me, nodded, and continued to talk. Like I wasn't even there. That was all. So I hung up my coat and changed my sweatpants and shoes and put my bag into my designated locker. And I walked out. And that was all. No big deal. Well, of course, it was a big deal for me. But the fact that no one noticed it was, made it a success. While loading my barbell for my squats I did realize something. This means technically I'm going stealth here. No one knows I am trans. They all think I'm a regular guy just like the rest of them. I have no idea how they will react if they find out. None what so ever. I don't know these people at all. The freedom I felt when I walked out of the dressing room disappeared rather quickly when I realized that, because they don't know, they could find out by accident. So while I was working out at first I was constantly aware if my boobs and my binder. But then I realized something else. They don't know me, and they don't care. They're not paying any attention to me at all. They are doing their thing and I am doing mine. We are all there for the same reason: to lift some steel. That's all there is. No one cares about anything else. So I'm just going to do my thing there and lift some steel, as a man.

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