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Each picture links to a story on ShanT's web...

Cartoons by Jet de Wilde

Poppen dokter - Doll doctor Shop in Amsterdam

The Hague - an empty city

Decor building   Decor bouw

ShanT and Mary...

Art photography  -  Fotografie

Frigge Timmerwerken Den Haag. - kinderkamer

Tarot by Sona.     Tarot kaarten van Sona.

Hand made cotton paper factory India  -  Hand geschept katoen papier India.

Statues The Hague  -  Beeldentuin Lange Voorhout Den Haag

Ardennen kanoeing  -  Ardennen kano varen

OSHO Ashram


Tibettan Pulsing Healing

Frequencies of Brilliance Shamanic Training

Diving in Egypt  -  Duiken in Egypte

Art Photography  -  Fotografie

ShanT in Nepal

My Altar - How to make an altar  -  Hoe maak je een altaar?

Schilderijen  -  Zonder stroom


Eye of GOD  -  and his face!!!

Inner Warrior Club and Marcus van Soest  -  Inner Warrior en Marcus van Soest


Flower Clown, Ronnie Flower

Tischa in Egypt

Tischa and friends


ShanT and his photography  -  ShanT en zijn fotografie

ShanT as a child  -  ShanT als kind

ShanT in India

Photography  -  fotografie

ShanT's Swans  -  zwanen

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ShanT History 1996 - 1997

   Sitemap ShanT's website  ShanT's childhood  | ShanT's 20's ShanT 1994 |   ShanT in India 1995  My history 1996-1997 |  My history 1998-1999 My father | Cotton paper factory from India  |   

     This is a time of major changes. I start the 'Inner Warrior' project. My friends and me are used to make music together, and want to have a place to practice. Another group of friends are party people in their 30's. We are looking for a place to dance and meet people from our age... So I found this space. At the Scheepmakersstraat 1, in The Hague. The house owner, I knew, since occasionally I had been working for him. We make a deal. I rent the space for Fl.800,- a month, get 3 months for free, and renovate it myself. There is no electricity system, no ceiling, no kitchen, the stone floor is severely damaged, the garden is a dump, central heating is finished half... Slowly I finish the renovation of the space. Some friends come and help, and we have a great time. Magic is in the air. The whole space is my living space. The idea is that there will be parties once or twice a month. The first parties, there was not even a ceiling !

    In the mean time Brigitte moved in. Without a word, she just put three suit cases in the room, and settled. She was strange. We had met several months before, and were dating. She was the quiet type. Very much into really listening to music, painting. But she couldn't stand big groups of people. She would hide in my sleeping room, when my friends would be around. And shocking, when I walked into the bathroom, while she was taking a shower, she would shrink, and cover herself, hiding the scars, she carefully had hidden from me all that time. Scars from auto mutilation... 

    There it was. She told me the story about sexual abuse. A long story. What else than to feel tremendous pity. Her previous boyfriend didn't know yet he was previous, when she came to live with me. Her relation story was one with many men at the same time. Intense relationships, because of the intense men she chose, beautiful guys, artists, but she always escaped by having a second man, somewhere in town. Much later, I would regret having met her.

    She got pregnant. Now, there is something I forgot to tell. The Inner Warrior was for me a way of bringing India to The Netherlands. I found myself living half in India, half here. I wanted to end this situation. This project was very important for me, making me feel at home here, where I was working to make my money. It brought creativity, travelers, excitement, artists, musicians, all of this in my life. Now, being pregnant, Brigitte couldn't handle the people any more, as if she could before..., and moved up, in a apartment above. In the mean while I got into trouble with another so called friend. He was growing marihuana clones, and needed a temporary space to do so. I had another apartment as storage and agreed for him to use it temporarily. When I needed this apartment again, he broke promise after promise, made sure not to answer my calls, pager calls, and even disconnected his door bell. Since Brigitte was going to live here, and we started to paint the house, after 4 months, I moved his 'mother-plants'. And 2 out of three died. Now the shit hit the fan. The guy send me another guy, to collect money for the died plants, FL.25.000,-! In the process he broke my Jaw, after which I broke his nose, but had to pay anyway. My friends were cowards, and they, the criminals, were martial art freaks. So no house for Brigitte, she moved out to another house. I couldn't function as coordinator of the project anymore, since I did not want to lose my unborn child.

    Pagalo, another so called friend, offered me to take over this role, so everything could run as it was, and all the friends could come together. After 8 months, he got broke, knife stabs in the couches, everything dirty, graffiti on my paintings, no friends around anymore, I told him to leave. He refused. Together with the house owner, whom I got into the foundation to supervise the rebuilding, and who wanted his own club, apparently. They managed to kick me out. Bye bye home, dream, child. After all this love, some low on IQ thieves and back stabbers came to ruin the place. This was a shock. Since I had invited these 'friends' to join into the project. I had put Fl.35.000,- in the building, and thousands of hours. My trust in myself had gone. Who can I trust, and why didn't I see this. What is friendship? Who are my friends? I left broken, to live with Brigitte. We were no more into a relationship anymore, and lived kinda separate. Then the next shit happened.

    Brigitte got into a panic. She couldn't take care of Tischa anymore. She decided to leave for France, telling me that she didn't know if or when she would be back. There I was, with this little baby, no income, in a house not on my name. What a mess. She came back after two weeks, telling me she didn't know when she was going to leave again.... Then we discovered she was a Border liner....

    Some people get it all. Did I choose for this? Do I take responsibility? Do I still? I am getting older, while I don't want to. I want to play, but I have to take care for my daughter. And I love her tremendously. I find myself again 'in service' of others. And while it makes me proud and strong, my love life has gone...

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