Sunday, 19 August 2012

I miss you..

Wake me up
When the night is young
and the sun is dead
All we had begun
All we'd never said
When love is a crime
And we are the judge
Kill the lovers in their prime
Hold the feelings we begrudge

Wake me up
When I am no longer here
When everything around me
Withers and disappears
And the light I see
Flickers and fades
Hide your face
Join the masquerade

Love is the brick
That sinks my hope
Nothing but a trick
An endless rope
Yet love is the reason
Why I'm still breathing
And with every season
I miss you more


Thursday, 16 August 2012

Wise words


3 weeks ago...

I was in London, chilling with my friends and having an awesome time at Mika's gig. Someone teleport me back please.

Sunday, 12 August 2012

The challenges of being short

Okay, I can hear you thinking; Short? Ingrid is not that short? Average, maybe, but short, nah. I would agree with you if I lived in any other country than I do. Apparently, people in the Netherlands decided to feed their children fertilizers, and my parents did not get that memo. At elementary school, I was still able to boast with the fact that I was one of the tallest girls in class. As puberty kicked in, most of my classmates shot up into the air like rockets. I was left with the very same height which once brought me glory. It was now....*dramatic music* my burden.

Now, it might be difficult to understand how being 5"5' would be any problem in a country filled with walking towers. I do have some examples of harrowing moments in the life of an average/short person.

For example, that one time during my driving lesson, when my driving instructor told me to get into a parking garage. Seems to be easy enough. The only issue was that I had to take a ticket out of a machine. I tried just by reaching out. It did not work. I tried by getting closer to the window. Still no success. It wasn't until I was literally hanging out of the car that I was able to grab the ticket. My instructor said he wished he had a camera. If only I were a little taller, I would have been able to grab that damned ticket and not look like a failed escape artist in America's funniest home videos. Argh the trauma!

Supermarkets are also not convenient for short people such as myself. Whenever you need something, it's always on the top shelf. And to reach the top shelf is like having to climb the Mount Everest. Literally. The past week it has often happened that old ladies asked me to grab something from the top shelf. Because I was so much taller than they were. Basically, we were the same height, but hey, I won't be the one to crush their dreams. So, without any security, I set out to climb the mountain of frozen foods in order to grab a box of frozen spinach for the lady. Like Spiderwoman, I climbed and climbed and reached out into oblivion, as the last box of spinach laughed at me from the ends of the world, erm...freezer. I finally was able to grab the box and frozen solid, but victorious, I returned. The woman thanked me and word spread, as a few days later, I was requested to embark on the very same journey, yet this time, in the wine department.

I could bore you with many more examples, however, being short has it's advantages. I, for example, am an expert at maneuvering through crowded areas. Like a cat almost. I am a pro at this. It is ideal when you have to get into a crowded train and you can just swiftly creep right in between until you can go in. If anyone still blocks your view, you just use puppy eyes, because being tiny = cute. Works all the time.
Apart from that, I barely bump my head when a wild low-hanging chandelier appears. And in case I want to disappear into the crowd, it's so much easier to just stand behind someone else and it's just as if you've never been there at all!

I guess, apart from some inconveniences, being short is not that bad at all. Unless people think I am a 15 year old because I am short. Moments like that are quite annoying. But at least I don't have to fold my legs in difficult positions in those small air plane seats. And hey, at least 50 cent, the ultimate lover of all shawties, wants to party like it's my birthday all the time, plus if he's annoying, I am in the perfect position to headbutt him in his holy area. Bring on the champagne! Call Napoleon! Short people rule!

Friday, 3 August 2012

The Origin of Love

I have never done this before. Mainly because I don't consider my work to be good enough. Yeah I've posted stories, but those were mainly just fun. Today I want to share something with you. Something I worked so very hard on. It was inspired by Mika, of course, and his new album, the Origin of Love. I started writing this just after Underwater was first played live and we only knew a handful of new song titles. I just felt inspired to write this story, as it got stuck in my head ever since. I printed 2 copies of this, one for me and one to give to Mika. Even though I hesitated for a long time, especially because the printed copies contained a lot of mistakes, I gave it to him in the end. And even though I was slightly objecting, saying it was still full of mistakes, he was very supportive and that was kind of the trigger for me to go on. I picked up writing again this week, after not having done so for a while, because at the moment I have to go through quite some shit in my life. Which is fine though. It only makes you stronger, I guess.

So, without any further ado, I'd like to present you this link so you can download The Origin of Love - The Story. Now, it's not perfect yet (oh god here I go again) but in a way, I am proud of it and I want to share it. And I hope you enjoy it too and if you can, share it as well. It is my dream to become better at what I do, one tiny step at a time. And one day, I want to be able to write even more beautiful stories, and share them with the world and maybe inspire others to do what they want to do, just like I was inspired.

A little bit more about the story, it's basically a collection of letters from a man to his long lost lover. The letters tell the story. Pretty simple isn't it? <- Click that link to download it.

I did not finish this project on my own. First off, the wonderful heart on the cover of the book was drawn by Ana Aragon.This is the second time she helped me out and I am still very grateful that she is willing to let me use her talents. It must have been strange for her when I emailed her saying: "I want a flying heart and I want you to stab a knife right through it!" That's some fucked up shit right there. I edited it some more et voila, the cover:

Apart from that, my dear friends; Maxim, Robin, Anneleen and her boyfriend Marco also helped out. Maxim and Robin were my models, portraying Death and Life. I think Maxim is still not over the fact that I so violently painted his face with a wet sponge. I apologise once again! Marco made this bad-ass realistic looking wound on Maxim's neck just to add a little more drama to it all and Anneleen was a brilliant photographer who managed to capture my vision, even without me being able to properly explain it.

If you want to see the making of, well check it out below:

Photoshoot Behind the Scenes from Ingrid Chant on Vimeo.

Here are some outtakes:

 Right, so this became a long ass post, even though that was not the intention. I just wanted to say that, yeah, I know I am not the best writer in the world yet, but I am improving, or so I think. And I hope that you will enjoy this story, because I believe that it does have an important message that needs to be told.
I am also glad that I found the inspiration and courage to finish this and make it happen, because if nobody ever believes in you, it's hard to keep fighting for what you believe in yourself. So thank you. Thank you to everyone who has supported me along the way. To every kind word. To every person who allowed me to be my crazy self and not run away crying. You are the reason why I won't give up. It doesn't matter if my dreams will become reality one day, or if I will always be writing just for me. At least I'll be doing what I love and that's basically all I need to do to survive.

I would love it if you'd comment on the story and share it if you liked it. You can either send me a message on Twitter: @IngievV or email me here

And because this is such a long ass post, here's the download link again: Download the Origin of Love - Story

Until next time!

Ingrid x

Wednesday, 1 August 2012


I'm sitting on my bed right now, still recovering from the best days I've ever experienced in my whole life. I look back at those moments and my heart still fills itself with glee. And perhaps because I spend my days listening to the beautiful new love songs by Mika, whom I greatly admire, that I stopped and thought about love as well.

Love is a beautiful thing. It's the reason we breathe. It gives purpose to our existence. I'd rather die than not love and be loved. What's left to live for if we only live for ourselves? If we only live to make money? Money is not going to embrace you when you're feeling down and hugging yourself is just not quite the same thing. I enjoy love. I enjoy being in love. That strange feeling in your stomach, it just makes me happy.

Yet Love can be like poison. It can eat you up from the inside, destroy you if you are not careful. Love can bring you regret and fear and can cause jealousy and frustration. I remember at the age of 13 I was madly in love with a guy and my infatuation lasted for 3 years. When I finally sent him an email saying I liked him, he ignored me. And I feel like I was the main subject of many jokes. That broke me. It took quite a while for me to start trusting men (boys) again and I still feel like I'm not completely opened up yet.

Love can also be a cause for hatred. I live in a country proud of its tolerance, yet in reality there is still a lot of hate polluting the air. What if you love someone so deeply and are so desperate to be with that person, but society discourages your love? What if you happen to fall in love with the same gender? I am still convinced of the fact that everybody should be able to love whoever they want. In the end, it all doesn't really matter. In the end we do not fall in love with a certain gender. We fall in love with a person. As time passes, you are not just looking at the thing between your partner's legs, but you're dealing with their personality, the good things and the bad things. When having sex it does make a difference, but apart from that, love is so much more than gender. It is not designed just for man + woman = baby. It's that feeling that makes you smile and giggle without an explanation. It's the drug that temporarily makes you lose your mind and puts your head in the clouds.
Love is for everyone. Everyone should be loved and should be able to love freely and passionately. Some of my closest friends are gay and I wish for them to be able to walk down the street holding hands with the one they love, without people judging them. Without them having to feel uncomfortable or guilty. Without them being harrassed. In the end, love is love.

I just wanted to share these deep thoughts with you, as I don't do that very often. Sometimes the Plato in me has to get out and deliver an awesome speech that will change the world. Or so I believe.

Maybe one day we will wake up in a world where it doesn't matter who you are or what you do and who you love. Maybe one day, instead of seeing our differences, we can see our similarities.