Mina Witteman – author | editor | teacher of creative writing

Posts tagged “Mina Witteman

Dutch View: A Wedding in IJmuiden

Posted on July 12, 2010

The venue was unusual: beach pavilion Zeezicht (Sea View) in IJmuiden. A wooden pavilion, built on high poles with magnificent views on one of the widest beaches in the Netherlands, on the IJmuiden jetties and the sea. The day was perfect for a wedding: bright blue skies, a glorious sun, lots of flowers and the air filled with happiness. It was perfect as it was, but it got even better. In the Netherlands we have an expression that says that your Prince Charming will arrive on a white horse. This groom arrived on a white horse and swept away his foxy lady in her golden gown to live happily ever after. So much happiness is good, but I am always on the look-out for…

Amsterdam View: A Writer on the IJ

Posted on July 9, 2010

Yesterday, I took my writer’s residence out biking to Amsterdam-Noord, that part of Amsterdam that usually gets treated as if it is parted from the main city by an ocean rather than by that former bay that is now known as Amsterdam’s bustling waterfront. I was on my way to my friend Martin, trainer – advisor – actor, who promised to help me out finding a new presentation formula for my school visits. I missed the ferry by seconds and had some time to kill waiting for the next one, when I spotted Amsterdam’s finest on the quay. My writer’s mind revved right up. What was Amsterdam’s finest doing on the waterfront? Were they on the look-out? On the look-out for what? Pickpockets? It…

Arizonan View: Tsé Bit’Aí

Posted on July 3, 2010

This was the first view at that magnificent monolith the Diné call Tsé Bit’Aí, or the Rock with Wings. Hiking high up in the Chuska Mountains I could see why legend tells these are the petrified remains of a giant bird. It is said that this is the bird that brought the Diné from the north to the Dinetah, their current homeland. It crashed here, in the middle of a rock desert in Four Corners and turned to stone. Getting closer to Tsé Bit’Aí I encountered some of the more gruesome sides of this beautiful land. Bones, bleached by the unrelenting sun, and left on red earth reminded me that life and death were ever so close to each other. The bones also reminded…

Arizonan View: Spider Woman

Posted on June 30, 2010

Some time ago I took my writer’s residence to the Dinetah. The Dinetah is the homeland of the Diné, the People, a.k.a. the Navajo. It lies between the four sacred mountains: Tsisnaasjini’ – Dawn or White Shell Mountain in the East (Blanca Peak, Colorado), Tsoodzil – Blue Bead or Turquoise Mountain in the South (Mount Taylor, New Mexico), Doko’oosliid – Abalone Shell Mountain in the West (San Francisco Peaks, Arizona) and Dibé Nitsaa – Big Mountain Sheep or Obsidian Mountain in the North (Hesperus Mountain, Colorado). At first sight the Dinetah seems a callous rock desert where the living is harsh, but if you look closely you will find myths and legends in every nook and cranny of this strikingly red land. One hot…

Amsterdam View: A Summer’s Day

Posted on June 28, 2010

What would you do if you found yourself in Amsterdam on a beautiful summer’s day? You could go biking. Yes, by all means. Biking along the canals would be fun, navigate your way around herds of out-of-towners, run red lights on your way to the red lights, slalom the ‘Amsterdammertjes’ on the sidewalks to let those skillful but ever hasty taxi drivers pass by. Yes, you could go biking. Or you could go for a stroll in Vondelpark, find yourself a teeny-weeny spot in between what the dogs and the ducks left the park, stretch out and take a nap, let your thoughts trail away on thick clouds of weed smoke that drift through Vondelpark on a summer’s day like this. But if the…

Kutná Hora View: Festive Death

Posted on June 24, 2010

For a writer of scary stories, such as myself, death inspires. It is the ultimate dark for us mortals, the ultimate terra incognita. Some of us try to hold on to life as long as possible, trying to extend life into death by pinning their faith on a hereafter. Truth is that we don’t know, we just don’t know. We can stare at a corpse for as long as we want, but we will never know where the person it once was went (if it went anywhere…). This spring I took my Writer’s Residence to Kutná Hora, deep into Bohemia and the Czech Republic. Kutná Hora’s story is a story of death. The discovery of silver in the twelfth century was a lucky windfall…