It is the conclusion of a special story. It is the keeping of a promise. Because whatever the promise, and whatever has changed in the meantime, no matter how long you end up taking: you always keep your promises.  

The result is a beautiful large canvas featuring 3 generations of Jinek. The background is my interpretation/editing of a painting made by Eva's mother, and what are also the endpapers of Eva's book 'Dream Big'. The words Dream Big are, of course, Eva's. Her book. Her dream. Her stories of powerful women who not only dream but make them come true. Pax and Salo are the third generation. Pax wrote the names and literally contributed.  

INTERVIEW FOR EVA'S NEWSLETTER

Eva knows bits of my story, bits of my dream and that her book influenced this, but she wants to know more. She asks me if she can interview me for her newsletter. Sure, she can! I feel honoured.
If you know me then you know I am an open book. And with this warm, sweet woman, this was no different. She wrote down my story, and this story, beautifully. I am very proud of it. 

EVA: More than two years ago, I received a message from Lisette via Instagram. I don't know her, but she writes me that she has read my book, that she was touched by Roxeanne Hazes' story and if she could post a piece of it. Of course, I answer her, sympathising and sharing, that's what it's all about, I'm just glad she wants to. A few months later, Lisette comes back on line. She has decided to radically turn her life around. To take a leap of faith, to do what she has always wanted to do. The stories in the book inspired her so much, they gave her 'the final push I needed'. She is teaching herself to work with textiles and she hopes to eventually quit her job to continue as an artist. She writes to me this as she practices on a canvas with the words 'Dream Big'. The canvas is a combination of a painting by my mother (which is in the book), the title of the book and my son's name, because I dedicated the book to him - in short, 'three generations in one canvas.' Lisette sends along another photo of the canvas and implores me that this is the practice phase, that she is only doing flight hours, but that I can have it when it is ready.

Last Wednesday, I met Lisette for the first time. Two-and-a-half years after our first contact, she came to my house to drink coffee and eat a slice of fruit salad, but mostly because she had made something for me. The practice canvas of yore she 'killed in the final stages', as did the one after that - she didn't think that one was good enough either - and now she has something new. In the intervening years, Lisette has participated in 'The New Vermeer', a TV programme for artists, and exhibited at the Mauritshuis in The Hague. Saying goodbye to her teaching job, her big dream of working as an independent artist has come true. Meanwhile, I had my second baby Salo and - coincidence does not exist - Dream Big 2 is currently rolling off the press.

The canvas Lisette comes to bring is almost as big as herself: a frail female with enough energy for three grown men. You should know: Lisette wants to get nothing for this canvas, even when I insist on paying for at least the materials, the frame and the transport. She says: 'I promised you this, and I always keep my promise.' Even though it has long since ceased to be a practice canvas, even though she has put more than 60 hours of work into it. It is only when I unpack it in my own living room that I see her artwork in its full glory for the first time: it is fantastic. And I cannot separate it from what Lisette has told me: that she has turned her life around. I want to know all about that. Lisette is willing to tell me about it, and she allows me to share this story with you.

Lisette: When I first wrote to you a few years ago, I was really at a crossroads in my life. Do I continue with my work in education, or do I throw in the towel and continue full-time as an artist? I have cardiac ADHD so when I do something, I really throw myself fully into it. If I continued working for an employer, my loyalty would always be there, it would always take precedence. I knew that if I really wanted to make something of my creative work, then I had to go all the way for it. In the end, I took that risk. Your book gave me the final push, with the idea of: sometimes you just have to do things, sometimes you just have to dare things.

When you wrote to me, you had just started learning how to use textiles to create your own designs. How did you come to that?

That I want to make creative work, I've known for 20 years. Only I had never found the way, the right medium that really suited me. I have always worked with yarn, knitted and crocheted things, but I couldn't express myself in that. I wanted to design things. Two years ago, I happened to stumble upon a youtube video of someone working on a textile artwork, shearing yarn. Not even the tufting, that is, but just the last part, the shearing. I immediately thought: I don't know what this woman is doing, but whatever it is, I want to do that too. Maybe it's in a factory, maybe it's in another country, but even if I have to move to do this in the factory, I'll go. My stomach even turned, it made me nauseous, that's how strong the feeling was. I knew for sure: I have finally found my medium. I am 45 years old, but I have found it.

What a thrill! And then? How on earth do you start?

I went all out to find out what tufting is, how it works, and what you need for it. Back then, you couldn't buy a tufting machine in the Netherlands, so I ordered one in China. The machine cost 1,500 euros and I wasn't even sure if I would like it, but I bought it anyway. While I was waiting for that machine, I thought about how I was going to do all this. How many canvases I could make, whether I could possibly sell them, whether I could make a living from it. That's how sure I was that I wanted this.

What was the very first moment when you actually started trying, how did that feel?

Oh that was totally awesome! All sorts of things went wrong because of course I had no idea how to do it, I popped right through the canvas, and the machine broke down a few times, but that's all trial and error And that's part of it. I really loved it, and then I was completely sure: this is my thing. Then I started practising on technique endlessly. And everything disappeared straight back into the dustbin.

You spent 20 years searching for your medium, and all that time doing something other than what your heart was full of. Weren't you very frustrated?

No because I have always loved working in education. Only there I do break down, because I can't hold my own within the organisation. I have neurodivergent brain, that's what it's called if you have ADHD, and then you think differently too. But that is not accepted within large organisations, so I always got into trouble with that. I had a great time all these years in front of the class and with pupils. I would also dare to say of myself that I was one of the best teachers. I was mega strict - in my class there is no shouting, no mobile phones, nothing like that - but the students ran away with me because they knew that I would go through fire for them, that I would do anything for them. And that it's also nice when someone gives you footing, and structure. But education is not about pupils, or the quality of education. It's about money. And so I kept fighting against something I could never win against: because the organisation always wins. And I cannot keep my mouth shut when I see that something is wrong, or when I see injustice. That's why I have had burnout three times in my life, because I just kept fighting, and regardless of how much energy you have, that eventually drains you completely.

Three burnouts, how intense. How long were you sick?

In 2008, I suffered burnout, and then I was also diagnosed with ADHD. I was 30, after which I ended up in a very severe depression. I really did walk hand-in-hand with death then.

I was in my early 30s and everyone around me was getting married and having children, and I had to go on antidepressants. I remember exactly when I started: on 6 September 2010, at my 33^e birthday. On 6 October 2010, Antonie Kamerling committed suicide and I remember completely understanding then that he had done it. Being depressed is so intense, so black. I always say: if I die, I won't go to hell. After all, I've already been there. But I got out of there too.

How did you do that?

I resigned. I thought I need to get out of teaching, I need to do something creative, so I quit and gave up all my entitlements, including my entitlement to benefits. I decided to start for myself. I recycled things: from old blankets I made bags, laptop covers, phone covers, everything. But that wasn't where my heart was, it was an escape. Things got worse and worse, I became more and more unhappy. Eventually I became depressed, and I also ended up with a debt of 30,000 euros.

On top of your depression.

Yes, on top of that, but I chose that consciously. I had applied for a loan from the bank to set up my business, but in the end I used all that money to live on and to pay for therapy. In the Netherlands, you can get antidepressants prescribed by your GP without any further treatment, but I don't think that's ok. I really wanted counselling, so I paid for a psychiatrist myself, but also for other therapies: for a haptonomist, for special drinks at the pharmacy to maintain my weight because I was so incredibly skinny. If I got too skinny, I had to take other medication and I didn't want to start all over again. I knew I was going into debt but I didn't care. I just thought: I have to get better, I have to get out of this. My health came first. I did that for a year and a half, and when I was doing better, I was able to reduce the antidepressants again.

Then I finally pulled the plug on my business and started cleaning. First half a day a week, then two half days and so I built it up. In the end, six days a week. I have two HBO degrees under my belt and I cleaned 13 toilets, but I thought: money is money. And cleaning, I can just do that. Later I took another job, at PostNL. I sorted mail at six in the morning, and in the afternoon I cleaned people's homes. I did this until I could pay off my debts.

How long did that take you?

5 years it took me. Then I paid off my debt and in the meantime I had also saved so that I could eventually buy my own house, which was also very important to me. I never went out, or to the pub, or on holiday. I just always worked.

Did you feel yourself getting stronger during that time, that you were recovering?

Looking back, I can only be very proud of myself and what I did. But the moment you're in it... then you're just surviving. And I am still alone, I think that also has to do with that period.

Just at the time when you are looking for a partner, for a man, I was not doing that at all. I was just working, and I didn't even want to date anyone. Somehow, I was also ashamed of everything. That I had two degrees but was only cleaning, that I had no money at all. I am not someone who makes someone else pay for her, but I had no money myself to go out to dinner or anything. So I just didn't do that.

Lisette, so hard on yourself.

I don't know if that is strictness... I am very independent and I don't want to be dependent on anyone else. I don't get paid for me. I do that myself.

It sounds like you solved this all by yourself.

Well, with therapists, of course. It has been very intense. But it has also taught me a lot. Until then, I had always lived and worked for others, and then I had to put myself first. Take care of myself. I learned that then, and that's why I'm still here.

Then you went back into teaching, but eventually quit that again, most recently. Now because you have discovered what you really want, and to fulfil your dream of being an artist. Even though this is something you've wanted for a long time, it also seems very uncertain and exciting. How do you feel now?

I have never been happier.

I had a very nice income, because as a teacher you earn really well and I also had three months' holiday a year. Now I work seven days a week, from seven in the morning until 11.30 at night. I don't even earn half of what I was earning, but I do it with so much love. Really. And it gives me a lot of pleasure.

A fortnight ago, I traded in my car. I had a ten-year-old Suzuki, which I traded in for a 25-year-old car. I needed a car big enough to transport my work, and I found it, but a very old one. When I drove here just now, I thought to myself: how nice that I still have a subscription to the ANWB, in case I get stuck along the motorway, haha. And none of this matters to me. I feel like the queen in that old car, because I really do what I want. I'm happier than ever.