....by Patti Smith. I have such an admiration for Patti Smith. I think she is smart, strongminded and she seems totally un-interested in living up to the expectiations of society of what a woman should look like. So i was very pleased with the book Just Kids, by Patti Smith, given to me by my friend Onneke. It describes the love and friendship between the young Patti Smith and (the later to be photographer) Robbert Mapplethorpe. Both of them arrived in New York city as very young adults, with hopes and dreams to be artists. She describes their struggle, their hunger (especially Patti doesn't have enough to eat. She explains she has a very fast metabolism, and looking at her, oh man, she really must have been hungry)
My admiration for Patti Smith just grew bigger while reading this book: she writes beautifully but also she really was the one who worked, brought the money in, made sure they could pay the rent. What a trooper! She just felt it was completely normal that she paid for stuff, so Robbert could fully develop himself into the big artist that he wanted to be. (and she wanted him to be.) Just out of love for him, and with lots of faith in his abilities. But exactly this also dissapointed me a bit: Come on, are you really working over 40 hours in a shitty job, be hungry, travel back and forth in the subway, while your man smokes weed, draws a bit, and eats your food while you can't hear your own thought because of the rumble of your stomach? Apart from their story it was interesting to read about the 'scene' in NY in the early seventies, late sixties. Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Harry Smith and Andy Warhol. They all play little parts in this book. The music-lover in me loved the book, but the artist in me loved it even more. And the strongminded woman in me just thought: 'yes sometimes you put your own dreams aside because you have so much faith in the one you love'.