hooked

I don’t like my picture taken.
Rather not.
This one is special.

Secondary school.
Late seventies,
early eighties.
I was a liked teenager.
Always reading
and day dreaming.
My favourite spot in the schoolbuilding
was the view,
during German class,
into the garden next door.
A tree,
a shed,
laundry outside,
was the ideal scenery
to let my mind drift
and dream
on dreams to come.

It took a while
to get adjusted to
these new surroundings.
After the move my family did
to this other part of the country.
From speaking an hour of Dutch a day,
it became my fulltime language.
Leaving the boats behind.
A little dream lost
on becoming a sail instructor.

An old small city became our new home.
The canal and small lakes
were replaced by the city
with a harbour
at the largest lake.
Thankfully the water was still around.

The new school.
Loads of room for creative classes.
Cool cultural activities.
Theatre,
music,
films,
poetry,
museums.
All new to me.
And boy,
did I liked it.
It got me hooked for life.

After school,
being a field hockey keeper,
Five times a week,
on those fields.
As all my friends did.

The optimistic,
free thinking,
hands-on atmosphere
and mentality
sticked.

One of the reasons why,
oké to a certain extent,
I like new beginnings
is because this huge change
turned out beyond imagination.

On the last day of a school year,
this picture was taken.
No idea why we got dressed-up.
Teenagers are fun.