Today was a good day, like the other days have been good days but different.
It was hard, the load got heavier but I didn't mind. People were nice to me, the route was beautiful, I ate my lunch at a place where time had stood still. The plastic is piling up and I'm over a meter wide now. Too big to be mistaken for a tramp.
The question "What are you doing?" is being asked a lot. It is hard to explain, although my story is a simple one.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not on the road to educate people. To warn them for the dark side of plastic. That's not my mission. Although lots of people think so and start telling me about the mess on their streets, their own plastic habits, fears for the future.
Today when I was walking I thought about people who had travelled to reach paradise. Not in the literal sense but in the meaning of a new, perfect place to settle down. I thought about the early pioneers in America, Marquez' One hundred years of solitude, the Israelites traveling through the desert, Dutch farmers in Canada, 19 the century explorers discovering unknown parts of the world. I thought about the Metaal Kathedraal, also known as the Mekka of de Meern.
What am I doing here?
On the internet I'm being called a plastic crusader. It strikes me, because in my last project the newspapers called me an art missionary. Not my words. But it is always extremely interesting how people see you, want to see you. What they think is a good story.
My story is a simpler one. I am walking. Apparently in order to get somewhere. Apparently with a goal in mind. But in fact I am only walking.