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THE RECYCLED PIRATE

(Re)Creator of life | Rebel by cause

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June 2015

The JCI IOBA competition (The before)

Tonight is the award ceremony of JCI IOBA (Aspiring) Creative Young Entrepreneur Award. Two competitions, one venue. Sponsored by Banco di Caribe.

The “aspiring” one (in which I take part with 2ndLifeCuracao) for the future entrepreneurs and the main event for the more settled entrepreneurs (that have processed the “aspiring” stage in their progress.)

As you are reading this, I’ll be at the Marriott Hotel waiting, watching and biting nails (I don’t really bite nails.) The ceremony starts at 7.30 pm till 11 pm (but he… Island time.)

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I can’t say I’m not nervous for I’m no liar. Admitting I don’t care if I win or lose would also be far from the truth. However participating makes us all a winner for heaving the guts to put it all out there. To spend all these minutes (hours, if not days) preparing, writing plans, rewriting plans, biting nails and growing them back and still have to wait what three judges think of your business. Your idea, your baby.

Three times I almost jumped out of my skin and three times I leaped back in (thank you Angela & Renske!) brushing and touching up the sharp edges as my body started to protest against any involvement in any of this.

As I’m writing this (and wondering if it was really necessary to put myself in this situation,) I’m laying on my bed resting for tonight but the pain won’t let me.

While you are reading this I’ll be wiggling my butt on an uncomfortable chair trying to not let the pain get away with me. And still all I’m thinking is:

“If I lose, it was a hell of a ride that I didn’t wanted to miss. I learned what I want and don’t want for the future of 2ndLifeCuracao. I learned that I’m capable of something I wasn’t sure off.” (thank you again Angela & Renske!)

And also:

“If I win… I’m just starting. A win doesn’t mean anything if you don’t squeeze the max out of it. A win isn’t a win until I have my products all the way in Australia. A win doesn’t mean anything unless I comply with what I promised.”

So if I win or lose, I won anyway. I won Restaurant Sambal, I won 27 Bar & Terrace, I won Teatro Luna Blou, Galeria Alma Blou and a soon to present store. I won hearts in Bonaire, Curaçao, the Netherlands, Canada, USA and even Sweden (I see you cuz.) I won the trust and enthusiasm of my parents, my brother, my sisters.

But most of all, I won me. Again. Again. And again. Win or lose. I still have to battle the nerve pains, the sciatica, the hamstrings and my knees. I still have to convince the doctors and discuss with the physical therapists. I still will have to get up the next morning and start the fight again. I will be closer though to helping my fellow “cripples” and my island.

Tonight is just an acknowledgement of a sword fight that took place a week and a half ago and of all the battles before that.

Whatever happens…

I know, I won life!

Read: The JCI IOBA Aspiring Creative Young Entrepreneur of the Year Award; The After

Music of choice: Levi Silvanie – GsMeMiss (Bo mes sa bro)

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The poet in me

The poet in me…

The poet in me doesn’t like to call himself a poet, nor a writer. (He loves to be called one though.) He doesn’t like to make to much fuss about words or grammar. (About anything, pirate remember…) Those are rules for other mortals that I don’t abide by. For me it’s about communicating, reaching out, touching, if you will. It’s about spreading a message, that I don’t need to convince you off.

Zwolle 2004
Zwolle 2002

You are you. I am me. Together we’re us. In between there is a lot of white noise. It can be yellow, blue or orange for all I care. Because I don’t. Yes I do. No, I don’t. I do care about you. You having the freedom to speak your mind and not letting unspoken words poison your insides. I care about you having your opinion and your right to be wrong, to be sad, and to spread your happiness.

Would you still tell me all if I told you nothing at all? Would you believe in me if all I did was telling what I didn’t believe in? Would you still be reading if I didn’t speak out at all? That’s why I write.

That is the poet in me. I want to write it down and be done with it. I want to spit it out and let you spit it too. See the differences and absorb them in new thoughts. Everything has it’s beauty, even the ugliness. The darkest pain becomes bearable and suddenly there is light. Hope.

Poetry is merely words. Yet they pack such a powerful punch,they heal, they inspire but the most beautiful of all, they remember, become thoughts that will carry far into a future. It’s that message I want to bring. That love, in a distant memory.

I will dust off some of my older poetry as I grow into this blogging thing. They’ll come in different languages and I won’t translate them. If you paint a rose, it loses it’s beauty and so does poetry. Though they are just simply written words. I will tell one day about my adventures and the stages I got to climb as a young adventurer. I’ll remember the beautiful faces I still carry with me with the words once spoken.

Music of choice: Damien Rice & Earl Harvin – Full Show – Michelberger Lobby 2014

Track list:

0:00 Delicate

5:25 Volcano (Awesome version where he involves the crowd)

13:57 Woman like a Man

19:46 The Greatest Bastard

24:19 I don’t want to change you

30:45 9 crimes (Guitar version instead of the usual piano)

38:40 Elephant

46:40 I remember (sadly, without lisa hannigan)

57:52 Kiss (Prince cover)

1:03:50 Trusty and True

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For she is my Wasabi Power

She is beautiful. She is wild. She is calm. She is wise. She is strength. She is Wasabi!

She is Jennifer and I love her for all that she is and she is always too much and never enough.

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She is as powerful as she is beautiful.
By Hester Baks Photography for I AM LOVE

She was unknown, other than that she used to do the job I was supposed to be doing. Youth station coordinator at our national library. We connected on Facebook but never contacted. She had moved to Amsterdam as I watched over Waaigat.  We left it in the middle for when maybe we needed each other one day.

5 years passed and the connection grew. We had seen bits and pieces of each other, online, but never spoken a word. As I reached out to the world, she reached in and others acknowledged that contact as we grew closer from far away. When she would step back on her rock she promised to visit and that is when I welcomed her home. Our first hug was one of long-lost friends. That one connection that you know “she, can handle my soul”. Our first “date” planned unplanned. She swept me off my feet and put me back on the ground.

She was like a lioness without a pride. She was my desert rose. My wild horse. And still my zen when she looks at me and tells me with her eyes how proud she is of me.

We are not your ordinary friends. Jennifer lives on Bonaire now and is closer than ever yet still too far away. We differ in so many ways. She’s more banda bou, I’m more banda riba. She’s more outgoing, her spirit shines, our skin colorcolor differs and so many others believesbelieves cross our thoughts it would seem impossible to reach each other. She is  also one of the rainbow people (gay, lesbian, dyke, whatever… go look it up yourself) and she’s the proof that being out of the ordinary makes us beautiful.

I love her equally. She is my Wasabi.  And she brings power with every visit to me.

Music of choice: Tanita Tikaram – Twist in my sobriety

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To the women surrounding me

When I read about feminism or emancipation of women, races or gender inequality I wonder if I’m reading an article from the 60’s or 70’s. Growing up in the 80’s (I’m from 1976) in the Netherlands with a single mother I didn’t know better that women work, take care of their children and have hobbies. They also have feelings, a sexual appetite and (who knew) freedom.

They stand on their own, strong as a (wo)man. I never gave women rights a second thought growing up since we all have the same rights, human rights and my mother was all the right I needed to know about. Of course a woman has a different role and posture than a man. She has a vagina, bears children and has more affinity with taking care of her offspring but it never made me think more but certainly not less about her. Her rights where the same as the man. She was my hunter, my provider. She was my teacher, my care taker. My role model. She didn’t need rights, nor protection. She protected me. She was the right, why I exist.

Maybe for growing up without having a pertinent “alpha” male in my life I get things confused. However, we live in an era where many things are changing. (Just like every other era before us since we invented fire…) Our gender roles are being questioned, transformed, or maybe even enhanced into some hybrid form? Who knows. Sexuality is being freed from oppression. There is a lot to cope with that is not fully comprehensible for a 38 (t h i r t y  e i g h t!) year young old man. Human evolution takes its course in many ways and you can not fight change. Emancipation came with the brain. It’s part of our evolution. It doesn’t care about gender roles, politics or religion, it sure won’t be stopped by skin color and most definitely not by one’s opinion. Read the world history if you don’t believe me. *winks*

But let’s get back to my point… Here I am! Being surrounded by a diversity of women. Short. Fat. Tall. Blond. Black. Hairy. Bold and/or bald. One more feminine while the other is more traditional. One more to my liking than the other. (I’m human too.) One to drink a beer with, the other to flirt with, all to talk with and listen to. And yes, they’re all beautiful. They are all lovers and they are all fighters. There is no doubt. Just like any other man, there is an other woman. I don’t see the need to stand up for their rights for they are fully capable of doing so themselves. I will however stand in support and cheer them on.

(You go girl! Woman. Lady. Fight like a girl and bring a man down)

I am standing up for human rights and they are just as human as the man who thinks she’s less than him. I’m standing up for them and applaud them as I see them walk the path of life. As I see them fall and get up, dust their hearts off, pull their pants up, adjust their hair and take another step into the shadows ahead. So this is not about your rights! Definitely not about your wrongs! This is about creating an equal playing field for all that are involved.

It might be a shallow attempt to apologize for being me. For solely seeing you as a cook, as a cleaner, as my desire, as a reason to hide for and from. But mostly as a salute. I’ve been raised in an era where I saw the change happen but it’s like society never overcame.

So to all Debbie’s, Diana’s and Diane’s. Mae’s and Mees’s. Caresse’s, Caitlin’s, Claartje’s, and Coraline’s. Fatima’s, Nazirah’s and/or Shireen’s. There are Eva’s, Emma’s and Eve’s…  Sabrine’s, Sherianne’s, Sylvia’s, Soraya’s. Tara’s, Theresia’s and Trix’s. Renske’s, Roelle’s, Patty’s and Patricia’s *breathes*  Angi’s, Anja’s, Ilse’s, Yindee’s, Elisa’s, Joyce’s, Jennifer’s,  Hester’s, Lisette’s and Ling’s! From the Catherine’s to the Shaniqua’s. Vanessa, Vee’s and Ness’s. Also the Kelly’s, Kim’s and Kimberley’s. I might have left out some Amanda’s, Monica’s, Maria’s, and all the other maam’s and misses.

Forgive me for I have only so much time. But to all, to all women surrounding me, standing under the same light as me. That have seen the darkness and shared their joy…

I recognize you. Thank you for letting me see you.

 

Music of choice: Cyndi Lauper – Girls Just Want to Have Fun

Some boys take a beautiful girl
And hide her away from the rest of the world
I want to be the one to walk in the sun
Oh girls they want to have fun
Oh girls just want to have

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I AM LOVE

“I’m gonna make a change
For once in my life
It’s gonna feel real good
Gonna make a difference
Gonna make it right”

And here I stand repeating those words…

When you reach out, the right people will reach back in (if they don’t they just aren’t the right ones on the right time.) You might want to ask yourself what your intentions are before you do, what you put out there comes back to you! I changed my perspective of the world by expecting less (I wish I could stop expecting at all, but hé… only human.) I started to give, just small bits and pieces. Sometimes my artistic products, sometimes my time and sometimes just a kind word. I wanted to be the man in the mirror.

Just like one day last June. I saw a picture, a picture of a woman I love, adore.  It was of a dear friend, Jennifer (mijn knuffelpot). She’s a whole different story, anybody knowing her understands why. She feeds my vibe!

I Am Love Candles
I Am Love custom candles set

Her picture captivated me. It looked powerful, fearless and yet full of love. I re posted it on my Facebook because I felt it had to be seen, she had to be seen (it even inspired one of my blogs.) The artist, photographer, had to be seen. They’re beautiful women (persons) and the picture was just so strong. Every picture on the website spoke to me in a different way. I felt the message I AM LOVE and love needs to shared.

“No message could have been any clearer
If you want to make the world a better place
Take a look at yourself and then make the change”

Apparently photographer and fellow artisan Hester Baks was  touched by my words as I was by her powerful photographs. We conversed about our “who, whats and why’s.” Our motives, our organisations, rising businesses, awareness and passion was shared, felt! I AM LOVE & 2ndLife Curacao were brought together. Both were trying to spread positivism and love. Both were reaching for a dream. We connected, two worlds far apart but still so close. Amsterdam – Curacao suddenly seemed just a few seconds apart. As we parted our (social media) ways I knew I wanted to make her an I AM LOVE set to show my appreciation for her art, for her being a human being. I just needed to give so she could receive and keep on giving to others what she was giving. Her dream, a platform for expression and all with a powerful theme. I AM LOVE! That’s me, I am love, I want to give it, I want to receive it. As long as I can remember I craved for it. And now, I just do it. I spread it and sometimes it sprays back…

That same evening, I  sent her a picture of my custom-made set for her. I explained why I made her the set and that I hoped she continued her project. I told her once more how much I loved her pictures and hoped that my gift to her would feed her inspiration, give her more power to create, move her to even more greatness because that was what her platform did for me. Not that I think that I have such powers or that magic comes out of my fingers, but I believe that the message of love can do amazing things to somebody. I have felt what it has done for me…

(When I was in the hospital, barely being able to move, I promised you that if I ever was going to get out of that bed I would make as much people feel as loved as I had felt by the support of others. That I was going to be the best me I could ever be. And these were the moments, the chances. Andy 2.0)

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Tuesday July 14th (2015) I received the package I already knew that was coming. Hester had asked me what I wanted a cap or a shirt and although my first response wanted to be “nothing” I immediately realized the power of receiving is just as important as giving. So I typed “medium, black, t-shirt” and swallowed my “but”. The mail was slow and Hester and my patience was tested, she had received her package in a week and a half and mine took about a month (Caribbean time…) So when I saw the mail man (why isn’t it mail male?) force a package into our mailbox I just felt it. She was here, not physical, but in spirit. I sprinted outside, tripping over my dog and stumbled to my mailbox with my gangster limp without cane and there it was; that black sticker. I AM LOVE.

NOW LET’S SPREAD THAT MESSAGE!

Watch the full clip of my dorky happiness here *click click*

“I’m starting with the man in the mirror
I’m asking him to change his ways
And no message could have been any clearer
If you want to make the world a better place
Take a look at yourself, and then make a change

 I’ve been a victim of a selfish kind of love
It’s time that I realize
That there are some with no home, not a nickel to loan
Could it be really me, pretending that they’re not alone?

 A willow deeply scarred, somebody’s broken heart
And a washed-out dream
They follow the pattern of the wind ya’ see
‘Cause they got no place to be
That’s why I’m starting with me”

Follow I AM LOVE on Facebook *click  click*

Music of choice: Michael Jackson – Man in the mirror

Read more: Michael Jackson – Man In The Mirror Lyrics | MetroLyrics

I Am Love Edit

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My name is Andrew Greg Mitchell Clemence Kirchner… (Yes I know, apparently my mother already knew I was trouble when I was born.) My friends call me Andy, my family Andrew and my mother “dolo’i kabes” (Papiamentu for headache).

Re discovering myself through a lens
Re discovering myself through a lens

I was born on the island Curacao, November 21st 1976. (For the astrology lovers among you that makes me a scorpion and dragon not that it makes much difference but it fills the page nicely.) It also makes me 38 when I write this (2014.) For the young stars that makes me old, for the old moons that makes me young, for me, it makes me ME!

I was raised travelling between Curaçao and the Netherlands. Making Dutch my prefered speaking language, close followed by Papiamentu and English. I think in three languages but mostly write in English. You’ll probably notice, this will make some funny spins in my mental vocabulary but I’ll try to make sense.

I’m not sure yet why I’m writing this and what the goal is with this blog other than wasting my time talking to thin internet air. Spit some fury of love, promoting my products, hoping to inspire and get touched by beautiful souls. It was a long time coming I guess. I’m writing since I was 12. Stood on several stages proclaiming my poetry until the voices in my head went silent.

About 6 years ago I started tweeting but didn’t get much satisfaction until 3 years ago. Instagram was almost the same 4 years ago. And then a year later my life changed drastically and social media became almost my only contact with the “outside” world.

In this period I had to learn to walk again, realise I was going to be a “disabled” person for the rest of my life and dealing with the loss of my girlfriend, Debbie (I’ll write several blogs about this in the future.) As an attempt to keep my sanity I re-discovered social media and embraced it as I was looking for a new identity. Twitter was my outlet, Instagram my motivator and Facebook my question mark. I created a Tumblr and another blog account but I had lost my writing spirit other than the brief messages I left on Twitter and Instagram. My online family grew as they motivated me to pick up my digital pen more often.

Lately many things are changing and I’m letting this wind of change guide me to where it goes (again). I hope I can interest you enough to come visit, share our stories, learn from each other but mostly I hope to learn from myself as I guide myself through my thoughts on here. It’s going to be a wild beautiful ride!

I’ll write blogs about my random thoughts, explain how I came to 2ndLife Curaçao, what and how I recycle, how life is as a “disabled”, why I love beards (duh), why I call myself a pirate but also to give others a platform to orate and reach a different podia than we normally would.

I welcome you to join the ride along, I, Andy Kirchner, The Recycled Pirate, salutes you and wishes you good morning, day and night.

TRP Signature

Follow my adventures on Facebook:

Buccaneer’s Enterprises B.V.

The Recycled Pirate

2ndLife Curacao

Music of Choice: Pink Floyd – Shine on you crazy diamond

Remember when you were young, you shone like the sun.
Shine on you crazy diamond.

Now there’s a look in your eyes, like black holes in the sky.
Shine on you crazy diamond.

You were caught in the crossfire of childhood and stardom.
Blown on the steel breeze.
Come on you target for faraway laughter.
Come on you stranger, you legend, you martyr, and shine!

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