Boris Bischoff (Amsterdam, Netherlands) is sad that his month of fulltime work for this magazine is ending.
I don’t like change.
More specifically, I don’t like endings.
When I was younger, I spent half the week at my Mom’s, and half at my Dad’s. I had to travel up and down from hers to his and back again. At first I’d go every three or four days (it was always unequal because a week only has seven), then every week, then every two weeks. When I turned 17, I think, I would stay with every set of parents for a month at a time.
I don’t know why, but I hated leaving. Waving at them as I cycled away (yes, cycled – I grew up in the Netherlands of course) was awful. Even today, I still have this strong fear of that feeling. It returns whenever something is about to end.
As it is, today is my last day of a month of full-time work on this magazine. This is ending now, and I have to finish the chapter. As you might guess, that feeling is returning. After today, I’ll be going on holiday, we won’t be returning to this office, and in September I’ll have to go back to my normal ‘school life’ again. Everything is changing.
It is not necessarily the work itself I’ll be missing, but more the combination of doing things I love (editing, designing, creating), inspiring others with my work, and at the same time working with someone I have a great connection with.
If you have kept up with our stories on Instagram, and then you’ll know what I mean. Nina and I were the ‘annoying kids’ in an office full of
Take today, for example. Nina was in a bad mood (hormonal), so to cheer her up, on our break, we thought we’d switch it up a bit. In stead of walking, I pushed her to the kitchen in the wheely office chair she loves so much. Of course, right at that moment, half of the office decided to congregate there. After a few embarrassing moments as they manoeuvred around her, with some of them confused when she got up because they thought she was in a wheelchair, when they had finally made their hot drinks and left, we laughed our asses off when we were alone again. A few moments later, another worker returned. She reprimanded us for always putting soy milk in the coffee machine, as apparently ‘no one likes soy milk in here’. It has to be only full milk. Okay, our bad, we’re sorry guys…
But it made me think. What’s work without a laugh? And, is it a certain childish humor that we got? I’m not sure. I’m 24 now, and I still behave like a kid sometimes (joke-wise but, let’s be honest, also sometimes temper-wise). I’m not sure I’d ever want to lose the type of silliness we have, that our co-workers here might call childishness. Even when I’m 60, I want to drive around office buildings in an office chair, taking fake phone calls from Kanye West, (this was one of our sketches on Instagram for P01nt, if you missed out, you can check it below), taking it one step further and pranking the others by putting lemonade in the milk compartment of the coffee machine.
Nina and I aren’t earning any money with this, but we’ve had the time of our lives last month. When I compare that to our fellow workers, who seem so serious and productive, I can’t help but hope I don’t get into a place like that, where money and production schedules kill every bit of spontaneity and creativity.
Both my Dad and Stepdad are workaholics (hi Dads). I grew up with strong male characters around me who’d achieved so much, and who were good leaders and always pushed through. Their image is always at the back of my mind, and will continue to pushed me to try and exceed them.
I want to do it differently, though. I want to show my voice in the world, and show everyone who’s boss, but I’d never want work to consume all of the time and energy in life. Not only because in those moments you ignore what really matters (the love of the people around you), but also because real love, honesty, creativity, and authenticity never enter any creative process if you force it (in my opinion at least).
It’s kinda wandering around, this article, but the p01nt (sorry, couldn’t resist) I’m trying to make is that last month was exactly how I want to live my life: showing love to the world through art and self-expression, and still having a continuous laugh about it all every single day. I couldn’t be doing this if I didn’t have a partner I could laugh with, otherwise I’d just be sitting behind the screen all day and doing ‘what we are supposed to do’. Fuck what you’re supposed to do. Fuck that shit.
Looking back over this month, I can clearly see that whenever something happened, or whenever personal life ‘things’ demanded Nina or my attention, we always took the time to put P01nt aside for a second and go back to it with a fresh view when we had regained our energy and our honest will. Because, what is work, if you don’t have people who love you around you? If you can’t share some of the things you do with meaningful others?
The other day, I was invited to play some music at an art exhibition. I played the type of music I liked myself of course, but whenever I checked the crowd, I focused on my own friends. If they were dancing and smiling, I knew that it was good. A similar thing happened when I wrote my first article for this magazine, on creativity. I got some very positive responses from some of my friends, saying they were inspired, and that I had taken the words out of their mouth. That warmed my heart, more than any of our statistics.
And that connects neatly to the p01nt vision. I want to inspire others through stories and art, through emotions and humanity, but I always want to prioritise the energy over our quota. Just like with any type of work, it’s not about how many articles or meeting deadlines itself, it’s about that honest human connection, that will not show up if you let capitalism, society or whatever type of repressing power force you to act in a programmed, untruthful or dishonest way.
If you ever have the chance to do things differently (which is a privileged position to be in), do it. Don’t waste your time, don’t kill your passion. We got robots for that. Keep your drive. It’s what makes you human.
Check out how we kept our creativity alive by sometimes breaking out of our routine and just making things for the hell of it.