When I graduated from drama school back in the days and started my career as a playwright, working on my first commissions, I was asked by a reporter of a Dutch theatre magazine to introduce myself to the readers by categorizing my outlook on the world.
I remember telling him with great insolence that I was not an introvert, but preferred to look at the world from the inside out, observing people from a distance so that I could subordinate my own relationship to them to their pursuits and come up with their dialogue.
I know, my preference for elaboration was already unbeatable. Poor guy. But he turned my disjointed chatter into a very coherent story and I often think back to that publication.
It took me long enough to completely internalize what I then so casually proclaimed, but every morning when I meet this view over our valley I recognize myself a little better. The valley is far from ours, obviously, but this is me: overlooking the world from the inside out.
The beauty with which it talks back to me, no matter where I look and no matter what dangers lie, is extremely soothing. It’s what got us through corona-confinement for sure.
It wasn’t like this from the start. When we first got here, this view was completely blocked of by hedges, brambles and wild fruit trees. Having glimpsed it through the branches on our first viewing appointment though was enough of a reward to make opening it up our first priority. This is where nature takes center stage and starts performing for us. All we have to do is sit back and relax.
Who knows, it might even motivate me to write dialogue again.