Literally months ago Dian from The Happy Candle nominated me for the Liebster Award. I wasn't sure if I was going to accept, because I've done a little too many Liebster Award posts throughout the years. But then I looked at Dian's post and I wasso impressed by the creative twist she'd given it that I couldn't help but accept. One of the other people who'd been nominated (back then known as Neal Kind) also did something very creative, so I felt like I couldn't stay behind. That's why I drew my answers instead of writing them down. Thank you, Dian, for nominating me and making the Liebster Award a little more awesome!

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It happens at the most unexpected moments: when I'm in the cookie aisle in the supermarket, when I'm walking in the park or when I open an old book. A smell, a sound, a sudden movement in the corner of my eye. The memories immediately come rushing back, as if a dam in my mind has just broken. Novato. The memories take me back to Novato, California, where I spent most of my childhood summers.
Usually I rush home when this happens - people always give me weird looks when I'm grinning for no apparent reason. Back home I make myself a cup of tea and talk to my mom. I tell her about that smell, that sound, that movement. 'It reminded me of Novato.' Those are the magic words. In that moment, my mom and I go back in time to those summers in Novato. We start to play a game of 'Do You Remember?', talk and laugh until we cry.

Do you remember the dog mattress?
Do you remember the deer in the vineyard?
Do you remember the rout to Indian Tree?
I smile when I think of those cool mornings, when I woke up to see deer standing in the backyard. I shake my head warily when I think of the sweltering heat of the early afternoons. My feet get itchy when I think of the countless splinters I got from walking on the wooden deck.
Yes, I do remember all those things.

Do you remember playing The Game of Life and losing the pieces?
Do you remember Cloudy and Maui?
Do you remember talking under water in the pool?
I laugh until I cry when I think of all the pranks my friends and I pulled on each other. I bounce in my chair with excitement when I think about Amen Boo and the tree houses in Marshmallow City. I snicker when I think of chicken in Mongolian Beef. Yes, I do remember all those things.

Do you remember going to Fresh Choice?
Do you remember Bird Poop Rock?
Do you remember The Mail Game?
I turn red with embarrassment when I think of hiding my friend's stuffed animal in the vase behind the door. I sing again when I think of our variation on 'the wheels on the bus': the people on the bus go tattoo, tattoo, tattoo! I blink away the tears when I think of our hand made National Park Passes.
Yes, I do remember all those things. But I don't just remember them, I cherish them. I'll keep telling the stories, I'll keep looking at the pictures and I'll keep laughing at our silliness until the day I'm in Novato again. The past was a beautiful place for us, for me, the boy I called Maui and the girl I called Fruit Loops. We had some great times together, but those years are far behind us. And when I look into my mom's eyes when we're remeniscing over a cup of tea, I know that these old memories won't fade, no, but they do need some company. I guess it's time for the three of us to meet up one last time in Novato. That time might come sooner than you'd expect. But until that time comes, my dear Maui and Cloudy, I just want to ask you: do you remember me?

Stay Awesome.

It's been 2.5 years since I threw my pencils down in art class. I was done with explaining where my inspiration came from (apparently Harry Potter isn't inspirational enough). I was tired of using materials I didn't want to use (apparently using pencils was too boring and easy). But most of all I was tired of the disapproving looks my teacher shot me every time I drew something in my manga-like style. I didn't touch a pencil, paint or charcoal in months. All the fun was gone. Until a few months ago.

I think it all started when my blog buddies and I were discussing superpowers. The new Avengers movie was about to be released and I couldn't help wondering what my superpowers would be. It didn't take my friends and me long to decide that I'd be an ice queen - literally. It sounded a bit like Frozen, which I didn't want to be compared with, so I decided to draw myself as superhero Enfreeze.

Machetes make everything look more bad ass

A few sketches later I got a much more bad ass ice queen with a machete, who was also scientifically correct thanks to #spacepoliceradio.
While drawing this I noticed it was quite a lot of fun to do. Slowly I got back into it. I drew Batman for a friend's birthday, I drew a self portrait on the back of my final grammar test and suddenly some silly doodles popped up in my old sketch book.

Lyrics are a great inspiration for stuff like this :)

It's summer vacation now, which means I'm bored most of the time. I could have tried to find a job, but instead I picked up my pencils again - partly because of Dian from The Happy Candle, but more on that soon.
I enjoy making silly little sketches again, especially because I don't have to explain to anyone why I decided to draw myself as the Hulk. I enjoy making little mistakes, because nothing depends on it. But most of all I like to see other people smile because of something I made. It doesn't matter it they smile because they think it's pretty, or because they think it's silly. That smile makes my day.
As much as I love drawing, I'm inspirationless most of the time. So if there's anything you'd like to see me draw, let me know in the comments. I'll try anything from chibis in shark costumes to portraits :)

Stay Awesome!

Summer 2001. Somewhere in France dozens of cyclists are making their way towards Paris, all hoping to bring the yellow jersey home. Hundreds of kilometers away, in the Dutch polder, a little blonde girl is staring at the cyclists of the Tour de France as they fly by on the television screen in front of her. Her green eyes are wide with wonder and excitement as she witnesses mass sprints, crashes and drug scandals unfold for the very first time.
Summer 2015. Dozens of cyclists are preparing themselves for the second stage of the Tour de France, which starts in the Netherlands. The little blonde girl has grown up, but her green eyes are still wide with wonder and excitement as she stands along the route of this second stage, patiently waiting for her heroes to cycle by. That girl, as you've probably guessed by now, is me.

Most people my age don't care much about the Tour de France. They don't want to waste their time watching some skinny men race each other on the French roads for three weeks. A part of me can understand that. A far bigger part of me, however, gets overexcited every July and wishes everyone would feel the same. The Tour is part of my life, just like this blog and travelling are parts of my life. I was born on a 'Tour day' and watching the race together has become a family tradition in teh Fisher household. And, when you grow up with the Tour de France like that, it's not boring to spend five hours in front of the tv during an uneventful stage, oh no. When the Tour flows through your veins, you see the tactical games the teams are playing, you see your heroes become legends or crash and burn before they reach Paris. You see alliances form and feuds come into existence. You see fights and crashes, you hear the rumours about drugs, you see everything. It's like a virus, and once you've caught it you can't get rid of it.

For years I've walked around with the Tour de France Virus. In 2013 half of my country got infected when two Dutch cyclists were positioned in the Top 10.
Today everyone seems to be crazy about the Tour. There's a very simple reason for that: the first two stages take place in the Netherlands. People have put up banners and signs to show their support. Everyone wants to be part of the circus that is the Tour de France.
Today's stage starts in Utrecht and goes to Zeeland, over Rotterdam. I've been looking forward to this day for months. Today the Tour will come close to my hometown: a mile from my front door to be exact. My heroes will race each other on their way to Rotterdam, on the same road I take to college every single day. Watching that happen, not on tv but in real life, is a once in a lifetime experience. And watching that happen is exactly what I'm going to do right now!

Stay Awesome!

You've probably seen reviews of this book pop up in our part of the blogosphere lately. Bryleigh from A Little Yarn Blossom and I also got the chance to review this book, but we decided to shake things up a little and do a discussion style post instead of a review!
My commentary is written in blue, Bryleigh's is written in purple. Enjoy!