Martijn Doolard looking out from his meadow in the Alps…
I’m living out my escapist fantasies this week by binge-watching YouTube videos created by Martijn Doolard. He’s a Dutch graphic designer, and he bought two stone cabins in the Italian Alps for $20k. You can watch the first of his videos here. Although I warn you, I watched the first on Sunday.
Now I’m on number 20.
They’re the essence of “slow television.” He spent half an hour in one episode trying to build a window from scratch. But they’re also a good antidote to the violence of more commercial channels. My wife and I recently finished watching the first season of Gangs of London. After a while you start to think, “wait, it’s been a while since anybody used an axe on another person.” Then, soon enough, you realize: “I knew this show would reward my unique brand of patience.”
Mr. Doolard, meanwhile, spends a lot of time reflecting on the condition of his stone roof. He does use an axe on occasion, but only to cut wood. And he does everything else with a level of optimistic, focused intention that makes me jealous. So much so, that I’m contemplating “doing a Doolard.” I’ll still run my communications consulting business in this fantasy. Only I’ll do it off-the-grid in the Italian Alps.
Of course, I’ll have to make a few changes. The homepage of my website will say, “if you’ve got a problem, and no-one else can help, and if you can find me, write me a letter. In Italy.”
I’ll be a one man, low-octane version of the A-Team. Instead of focusing on nineteen-eighties villainy, I’ll devote my philosophical talents to solving twenty-twenties communications challenges. My website will only list my mailing address. I’ll get your letter after a few months. I’ll think about it. Then I’ll write you back. The advice might begin with some musing on the real value of communication.
I might write: “What’s the point of saying anything when silence can be its own reward?”
You might well find the whole experience rather exasperating. My reachability is part of my value to many of my clients. And I will doubtless be frustrated by it too because I have no idea how to do any kind of cabin renovation. As I say, it’s a fantasy.
One of the most New York City things you can do with your time is think about leaving New York City. That’s part of the being here that makes it so wonderful. It’s so awful.
Human desire is a funny thing. New York City shows me who I really am, at least. And I wrote this as a twisted love letter to the Big Apple, really. Not just to Mr. Doolard. Wonderful though he is.
Meantime, Happy Holidays. I’ll be off next week but back in the New Year. May you find your own psychological cabin in the Alps, in the meantime. Wherever it may be.
