Art work by Kanra Khan from The Lunar Descent

When I was nine years old a Dutch rap formation called De Jeugd Van Tegenwoordig scored their first gigantic hit in my country. Their name is the Dutch equivalent of 'kids these days', which is funny to me because their main audience seemed to be kids back then. I wasn't one of the many kids who liked them though. You see, one night their song 'Watskeburt' was so firmly stuck in my head that I didn't sleep all night. I was angry and unforgiving. Nine-year-old me vowed never to like a song by De Jeugd Van Tegenwoordig ever again.
Then 2010 happened. I was 14 years old and found myself singing along with my friends to a song called 'Sterrenstof' (Dutch for 'stardust') by... De Jeugd Van Tegenwoordig. No matter how hard I tried, I could not hate this song. This caused quite some concern, but the follow-up was crap and I never spared the group a thought again.

Fast forward to 2017. I hadn't heard a full song by the group I loved to hate in years when I broke down crying, panicking and hyperventilating because I saw no way I could finish the most important college assignment of my life on time. As I pulled myself together on that morning in April, Sterrenstof came on the radio. I smiled, because it made me think of the time one of my classmates sang it in 9th grade physics class and completely screwed the lyrics up. The song brought so many happy memories back that I managed to sit back on my chair and write five full pages before the next wave of panic came. From that day on I put the song on repeat every single time I worked on this assignment that'd bring me a whole lot closer to being a certified teacher. Sterrenstof began to turn into something more than just a happy high school memory.

The first hours of writing were awkward. Even though the song brought back six-year-old memories that were all good, the group reminded me of my ex-boyfriend, who likes them way too much. I felt bad for listening to a song by one of 'his' artists. Until I remembered he hated this song. I felt better then. The song didn't just calm me down, it helped me get over him a little more. Yes, I was enjoying something he'd liked, but on my terms. It felt better and better to slam my keyboard relentlessly to the beat of Sterrenstof. It was then that I remembered I'd watched a documentary on these guys with my ex-boyfriend (hey, we all do stupid things for love) and that he'd told me one of these rappers, Willie Wartaal, was a certified high school teacher. That motivated me to no end. If a guy who had written songs about, and I kid you not, schnitzels of all things could become a high school teacher, I saw no reason why I couldn't become one. I worked and worked and worked, listening to Sterrenstof every single time.

As the days went by and my panic became more intense I noticed I needed more distraction than just the music. Also, Spotify was being a pain in the ass, so I turned to YouTube to get my writing jam. I'd seen the video clip for Sterrenstof about once or twice when I was in high school, but didn't really remember it. Half a minute in I was smiling from ear to ear for the first time since December. It's not a very special video, just the four guys from De Jeugd Van Tegenwoordig being goofy on a hill and very awkwardly dancing, but it struck a cord with me. Okay, they have some weird ass songs that seriously pissed me off when I was a kid, but they were living my dream: they clearly had fun doing what they loved for a living with people they liked. It only motivated me even more to work hard on my assignment so that one day I could live that life too.

It was early May when I was rapping out loud in my room; rapping out loud in Dutch, something I'd sworn I'd never do, not even to save my own life. But I did it, every time I felt the panic creeping up on me. Every time I felt like my assignment was going to be shitty, I turned the volume up. Every time I felt tears stinging behind my eyes, I danced around the room in my own weird way. And when it all became too much, I'd rap. Softly at first, then louder and louder, even though I messed the lyrics up worse than my classmate from 9th grade physics. Eventually I looked them up and finally discovered that a song I'd seen as innocent was actually most probably about LSD. I couldn't care less. The song made me feel better and also had parts about overcoming addiction and making it on your own, which inspired me. And to be honest, yelling 'DAN BEN IK LOESOE IN DE SKY MET DIAMONDS ON MY NECK BITCH DIAMONDS ON MY NECK' made me feel better than I'd felt in months. I was sure I'd pass my assignment, assessment and kick ass in senior year, thanks to De Jeugd Van Tegenwoordig.

Then things changed. I'd worked my ass off and had simultaneously learned the lyrics to one of the most misheard song lyrics in Dutch history when college just... well... screwed me over. Apparently I couldn't do what Willie Wartaal could, because college made it impossible for me to hand the assignment in and apply for assessment on time. I dropped out, but that's a different story (which you can read in this post). For what felt like the millionth time in 2017 I spent my days crying, thinking I was a complete failure. I didn't listen to any music, shut myself off from all of it.
I think I stopped crying after a day or three. I realized I'd made the right decisionby dropping out. I felt like a weight had been lifted, like I could breathe again. That's when I also played music again. The first song I listened to after dropping out of college was, of course, Sterrenstof.

It's now been well over two months since that first breakdown when Sterrenstof came on the radio. Since then the song has calmed me down numerous times, has prevented at least eight panic attacks and kept me from crying on a daily basis. It's the combination of happy high school memories, upbeat music and a video clip that reminds me of my goals in life that makes this song so powerful to me.
I have hated De Jeugd Van Tegenwoordig, resented them with every cell in my body. Not anymore. Sterrenstof gets completely stuck in your head once you've listened to it, but I don't mind. I'm thankful for that now. If it weren't for De Jeugd Van Tegenwoordig, I would have given up hope a long time ago.

Late March saw me end up on a psychologist's couch. It was red, modern and not even half as fancy as I'd expected. I'd already been struggling with many things for many months, but as I sat there I realized one thing: I really couldn't continue my internship and thus my education. I had to quit, or it'd be the end of me.

Internships had never been easy for me. In 2014 I started a course to become a high school teacher. German was my subject. In my first year I taught at a high school in Rotterdam for eight weeks, which almost killed me. In my second year I went back to my old high school for 20 weeks and had a good time teaching there. Then, in my third year, I went over to my high school's rival. At first it was all okay, but soon I was to blame for loads of things that weren't my fault and the school said they couldn't keep me on unless I did exactly what they told me. And I, idiot that I am, complied. With every week passing I felt worse and worse. I realized I didn't want to become a teacher anymore, but felt like I couldn't give up now that I'd come this far already. I completely ignored my own emotional and physical needs just to get my internship credits at the end of the academic year. In the process, I destroyed more than I could've imagined: my relationship, my weight, my bond I had with my family, my hobbies and both my physical and my mental health.

As January came around, I found myself panicking every Monday night, because I'd imagine all kinds of horrors that would happen to me on Tuesdays and Wednesdays when I'd go to internship. I'd be hyperventilating, crying over silly little things like diaper commercials, and finding excuses not to go. Some of these horrors actually did come true: I was yelled at while I was having a mental break down in the staff room. I was spoken to in a disparaging way on multiple occasions. I was to blame for problems that weren't my problem and in no way my responsibility. It caused me more stress than I could handle.
I could not go on like that. I asked both my college and my internship if it was okay if I finished the internship on the day of my assessment deadline, so I'd have the remaining six weeks of the academic year to clean up the mess inside my head. Both agreed. For a week or two I was happy. Then everything went to shit.

I had to get permission to apply for assessment, even though I'd already finished writing the entire assessment report. I'd get permission if a college teacher visited one of my classes. This happened the very last week before my deadline because they'd forgotten to schedule an appointment, which meant there was no time for a second chance if I messed up.
I messed up. Or so the college teacher said. He burned me down, said I was on the same level as a sophomore, that I hadn't met any of his criteria (criteria my classmates and I had never heard of until that day) and based on those criteria he wouldn't allow me to apply for assessment.
Somehow I convinced him to grant me permission anyway, but then the next hurdle came up: I didn't receive any feedback on my assessment report. My teacher just didn't read it. No feedback from her = no assessment for Envy.

By then the deadline was only four days away. I was panicking, crying, freaking out. It was worse than all the previous internship panic moments put together. I barely ate, barely slept and felt worse than I'd felt after my breakup. As I woke up to no feedback on the Sunday morning before the deadline, I took a drastic decision: I decided to quit. This degree course wasn't worth so much pain and panic for so many months. In November 2016 I'd already decided I didn't want to become a teacher, so why was I still putting myself through this much pain and stress for something I didn't want at all?

For a few days I felt like a complete failure. I hadn't been able to get a degree and become a teacher. That hurt. Not because I still wanted to be a teacher, but because my college had made it impossible for me to prove myself. Sure, I could've tried again next year, spend an extra year in college and become a teacher anyway. But I didn't want to. I hated teaching. I hated the lack of gratitude at internship. I hated the pointless college classes and I hated my career path most of all. I could not deal with this much negativity for much longer. And I definitely couldn't be unhappy at college for another two years. I chose happiness and health over my education. I don't think that makes me a failure. I think that makes me brave.

Sometimes we need to reevaluate what's important to us. I was forced to do so when my college screwed me over multiple times in April and May. As a result my already low self-esteem took a beating. I started having panic attacks and slept worse than ever before. I was going through too much pain for a degree that'd land me a job I didn't want. Now that I've quit college, I feel like I can finally breathe again. I smile more, I laugh more, I enjoy life a lot more. It might be difficult to get into a different college now, but there's no age limit to doing that. Neither is there an age limit to chasing your dreams, which is what I get to do now that I'm out of that horrible place. If you quit your degree course to chase your dreams, to follow your heart, you are in no way a failure. All you are is brave and strong. And a little bit scared and confused, in my case. Sometimes quitting can give you peace of mind and a chance at the life you really want. A college degree isn't the only way to find happiness. So don't be afraid to quit your course if the time ever comes.

I took art classes in high school. After about a year, I quit. The reason was simple: I did have the skills, but I didn't have pretentious meanings behind my work. If I wanted to draw a girl playing Quidditch, I drew a girl playing Quidditch. It drove my teacher crazy. She kept asking me the reasoning behind everything I did, where the inspiration came from and what the meaning of my artwork was. I had no answer for her. The idea was just there, out of nowhere. Maybe it's a giftedness thing, maybe it isn't. Either way, I quit. I was tired of being forced to make 'meaningful' art.


Fast forward four years. Occasionally I draw. Sometimes I paint on walls, sometimes I paint on paper. But most of the time I work on art journal pages. I enjoy the creative process and the endless options of art journalling and decided I wanted to share some of my work on Instagram. There was just one thing I didn't like about that idea: explaining my art in a caption. Loads of people online try to be artists by trying to be as meaningful as possible. It feels forced. Every post has some deep philosophical meaning behind it, even if that meaning is nowhere to be seen in the actual post. 11th grade art class all over again, no thank you.


Still I wanted to share some of the things I make, especially my art journal pages. So I took to Instagram anyway and posted my work. It was accompanied by only two lines of caption: a very short description of the work, followed by the three simple words 'end of story'.


End of Story represents my attitude towards my work. I make it because I like it. Period. I could write long paragraphs on inspiration for an art journal page, while in reality I made it simply because I like manatees or something silly like that. Art doesn't have to be complicated or extremely meaningful. That's what I'm hoping to show on my art journal account.


That doesn't mean there's no meaning behind any of my pages. Yet sometimes that meaning is too personal or too weird to share. And why would I want to share it anyway? The beauty of art is that everyone can give their own meaning to a piece. I don't see any reason for me to force a meaning upon you through a long winded and pretentious caption. End of Story.

Hello. My name is Envy. And I'm an addict. I'm addicted to street art I need it in my life. First I went to Slovenia, where I did a street art tour in Ljubljana. Then I did one in Utrecht. But I needed more. So I searched the internet. I searched, searched, searched and found a glorious map of Rotterdam with a perfect street art route all set out for me. I think I may have cried some happy tears upon finding it.
The map was made by Rewriters Rotterdam, a local street art organization who also organize guided tours - if you're with a group. I've said it before, me and my camera don't count as a group... So I printed their map, charged my camera and planned a day out in the city.

I went to Rotterdam on a scorchingly hot Friday in May. Because I'm widely known for my ability to get lost in my own house, I dragged my dad along. It was easy to convince him to come with me. It was not so easy to keep him from calling me 'tour guide' in a very weird accent. Neither was it easy to convince him to start the route at the actual start instead of at a subway station in the middle of the route. But with being tour guide comes a little bit of power, so we started the route where we were supposed to start: at Rotterdam Central Station.


We started walking and my lack of mapreading skills became painfully obvious before we'd even found the first piece on the map. The map wasn't always as clear as I wanted it to be, mainly because not all street names were on it. If you're unfamiliar with the city I'd advise you to keep a regular tourist map next to the street art map so you can find your way a bit easier. Now if I'd done that and my dad hadn't been there, I still would've been lost before seeing any street art at all. That's how hopeless I am with maps. Within ten minutes my dad had taken over the role of tour guide, which I didn't mind at all.

First we followed the streets along the train tracks for a while. That's where we saw the first pieces. My dad thought I knew things about the artists who'd made them, but this was actually my first time I heard of most of them. I made sure to tell him all I knew about Ox-Alien and KBTR though, since I kind of wanted my honorary title of tour guide back.


After the area around Central Station we quickly dipped into the northern part of Rotterdam, a place I hadn't been to in years. This is were we saw the first pieces that weren't on the map and also an enormous wall that looks like the kind of thing fashion bloggers would drool over as it makes a gorgeous background.


De luchtsingel brought us back to the city centre. It's a gigantic wooden structure that connects the north to the centre and up until I found the Rewriters map I'd never even heard of it. It's one of the things I like about the map: it doesn't just lead you to the best street art in town, you also get to see almost all the major Rotterdam landmarks along the way.


My dad wasn't much of a fan of seeing all those things as well though, especially because there was a bit of tour that had no street art and just led through some cool streets. He wanted to go straight to the art, which was also why he didn't want to start at Central Station. I wanted to stick to the route though and I'm glad we did. I saw some great places and streets I'd never seen before.

As we got close to the river I finally got to see a piece I'd walked past with my ex-boyfriend at least five times. For a moment I got frustrated with myself because I saw it every one of those five times and never took the time to look at it. I really should have, because it shows the iconic landmarks of Rotterdam, it's enormous and simply awesome. It was one of my favorites along the route by my favorite group of artists from this city.


Of course you can't like every single one of the pieces you see on a route with over 30 pieces of art. At this point of the route, about halfway, I decided to take pictures of just the murals I liked. And I was also getting a little tired. My feet were starting to hurt because I hadn't been smart enough to put on some good shoes instead of half-dead sneakers older than time itself. I should've kept in mind that the route is seven kilometers long. Yes, seven. So don't think you can do it in an hour, you need to take your time. You need that time. First of all you need to actively search for some of the murals. Second, you'll see many more pieces of street art that aren't on the map if you take your time to search. In my opinion, that's how it should be. Part of the thrill of street art is putting the effort in to find the best pieces. Even though I'm technically cheating by using a map, I still had that thrill whenever I knew I was getting close to a piece without having any idea of its actual location.


My dad and I had started walking through the Everyone here thought we were lost tourists, which was pretty funny. Usually I'm the one who helps out lost tourists.
From this point on we went through a few streets I never would have entered if I hadn't been walking the route. Not all of them were, how shall I put this, hygienic. I may have stepped in some things I didn't want to step in while trying to take some good pictures. What can I say? It's all part of urban exploring.


My dad and I walked on, taking breaks every now and then because it was so freaking hot that day. We'd seen almost each and every one of the pieces marked on the map when we reached the Westkruiskade and started noticing all these cute little places where we could go for lunch. I don't know if this was intentional, but the last art piece on the map is so close to so many little restaurants that it's a perfect place to end your route and go for lunch, like my dad and I did. We had hamburgers at a very Instagrammable place. The food was too awesome to wait any longer than necessary, so I resorted to taking pictures of the restaurant instead of the food. It was a perfect end to a perfect morning.


At the end of the day I could only say one bad thing about the map that had led me all through the city: This map doesn't get updated. And since street art doesn't stick around for all eternity, you might find yourself looking for a piece that's no longer there. My dad and I found all pieces except for two, but made up for that by finding the latest Rewriters wall that was made just a week before we walked the route. If you don't want to face that struggle you can download the Rewriters app with all of their routes. This one does get updated all the time and you can even see pieces that have disappeared on it, but since my phone can't even handle Whatsapp anymore I was not able to check the app out for myself.

If you're in Rotterdam and you like street art even a little bit, you have to walk this route. No questions asked. Just go!

Last month Guardian of the Galaxy Vol. 2 hit theatres and I was too busy losing my mind in college to realize it was the perfect opportunity to review my only Guardians of the Galaxy comic book. Sad, very sad indeed. Almost a month later I returned to my drafts for the review and realized I didn't just let the opportunity slide. I'd made a somewhat concious decision. Everyone was excited about the movie and I didn't want to rain on the parade. I think that already says a lot about how I feel about this comic. Let's just get into it, shall we?


I bought Guardians of the Galaxy: New Watch because it had 'New Watch' in the title. I thought that'd mean a new start to the series, not too much knowledge of its history required. I thought wrong. By buying this one I shot myself in the foot. You see, New Watch starts where the previous series ended, which meant two things for me. First of all, I had no idea what kind of shit went down between the characters and why their relationships were so different now. Second, the book gave away some spoilers for the storyline that the Guardians of the Galaxy movies are currently exploring. Great. Awesome. Good job, Envy.
So confused as I was I kept on reading. Now before I continue this review, there's one thing you need to know: I read all the comic books I review twice, once to enjoy it with a clear mind and once to review it with a more critical eye. After the first read I could summarize the plot as 'beating up two bad guys'. That's all, and that's not much of a plot.
I don't want to spoil anything for anyone since I'm already annoyed enough that I spoilt Guardians of the Galaxy for myself, so explaining the plot in more detail than I just did is a bit difficult. It comes down to the Guardians coming face to face with two villains who still have a bone to pick with ma favorite space heroes. Oh, and there's a villain called Annihilus at the very start and end, who apparently has a plan to take over the universe, but since everything happening inbetween seems to be one unrelated fight scene, you'll finish the book feeling like you've made no progress in the storyline at all.


Okay Envy, deep breaths. Don't get swept away by your annoyance at the lack of a plot. Let's focus on the good things about this comic book instead.
First up, the characters. No idea what happened between all of them and Quill, but there's a new dynamic and it works. Venom and the Thing were added to the gang. Rocket is awesome as usual. I don't know how I feel about Groot's freen dreadlocks, but apart from that he's the Groot I got to know in 2014. There isn't much character development yet, but we do get a good introduction to the Guardians and their powers, both the old and newer members.


Then there's the art. If you've read any of my other reviews, you probably know I'm a sucker for good comic book art. And my god did this book deliver just that.
Usually the cover of a comic book is absolutely stunning, while the pages are on a slightly lower level than that because of the smaller size of the drawings and time pressure. That rule didn't apply here at all. All of the two-page spreads were so breath-taking that I'd drame them and hang them on my wall right now if I could. They're detailed, beautifully drawn and colored, and the art style blew me away. But it's not just the double pages, no, all the other pages are amazing as well. They're not all on the same level of greatness, but the level of beauty in the art work is so far above average and consistent in that, that I spent at least half my time reading with staring at panels, marvelling at how mind-blowing beautiful they are. I don't usually name artists or writers in my review, but this time I'm making an exception: Valerio Schiti, you are my hero!


The last awesome thing I want to mention are the extras. If you ever want to make me love your (web)comic, make sure there are extras because they make me love a comic so much more. This one didn't just have a few alternative covers, but also loads of detailed character sheets. Different outfits, the color palette, it's all there. It's a little piece of perfection right at the end of the book.


Yet if I take the art and extras out of the equation, it doesn't look all that great for Guardians of the Galaxy. the typical Marvel humor was a bit snowed-under because of all the fight scenes. There's a difference between fight scenes to further the plot and a continous series of fight scenes as a plot. Still I couldn't get upset about this while actually reading the book, since every fight scene was beautifully depicted and nothing felt rushed.

All in all I have mixed feelings about this New Watch. It's hard to decide whether or not to continue a series if you don't see a clear plot unfolding for which you'd want to follow the series. It's also not the best place to start your comic book career. Yet the art makes up for so, so, so many of its flaws that I'm torn. Continue this one or not? I think I'll let you gues decide in the comments.