The LARP is Real

All images courtesy of the Martijn Doolaard YouTube Channel .

This is Martijn.

Martijn is living in the Italian alps. Pretty, right?

He purchased a plot of land on a mountain with two vacant stone cabins on it, with the intent to refinish them, by himself as much as possible, after which he’ll move into one of them (the other becoming a storehouse and workshop) and enjoy the fruits of his labor in a half-off-grid, slow life. Like something from the most recent trend of fantasy anime. Who could blame him?

He’s documenting the whole process on his YouTube channel, one week at a time. He's been doing this for years, now. He's about to post his 200th video of this project. Each week, there’s a new video, often between 45 minutes to an hour long. He films himself working on his cabins, sometimes silently, occasionally explaining things direct to camera; direct to the viewer.

Martijn is not an expert; far from it. He’s a graphic designer by trade, and does well at sketching ideas, making basic mockups in 3D, but as for actually doing the work, he’s teaching himself as he goes, watching YouTube tutorials, asking for advice from family, friends, and professionals. Martijn makes mistakes. He documents this as well, admirably. It can't all be a success, right?

My fiancée and I watch the series occasionally, mostly when we can’t find anything else we’d rather watch more. It fascinates us and frustrates us, like watching your little brother play a videogame (with the caveat that 1. Martijn is older than both of us, and 2. neither of us are experts on most of what he attempts, either). We call the series “Watching Martijn.” We’ve invented little jokes as we’ve watched more and more. For example, he spent weeks building a wildly-impractical crane system to replace the stones on his roof, only to not use it and never mention it again, almost certainly after realizing the folly of it. (“Where’s the crane, Martijn?” we jokingly yell at the TV screen, us the two inaugural members of the Martijn Doolaard Truther Club).

If you enjoyed this issue, consider joining my membership program, The Order of the Black Lotus. For the price of a cup of coffee in Tokyo ($3/month or $30/year), you not only support my writing and photography, but I’ll send you ahandwritten, one-of-one postcard from me in Tokyo —a tangible piece of my journey, just for you. You’ll also get access to all exclusive posts , and an invitation to my private photography feed on** Retro** .

JOIN THE ORDER OF THE BLACK LOTUS

Joining is the most meaningful way to ensure this work continues, and I thank you for your support!

Martijn’s work here is, in essence, a LARP. You know, like those guys who put away the D&D dice and throw on wizard robes and don foam swords to act out their character’s exploits in the nearest woods? That’s what Martijn is doing.

I say this not because of his lack of expertise, but rather how he approaches the work. He is clearly focused on how he comes across. He makes a lot of decisions based on aesthetics only, function be damned. Now, I’m one of the last people to say "throw away aesthetics!" I want to own and use beautiful things, but Martijn takes it to the extreme. He spent most of the first year or so sleeping in a large canvas tent that broke repeatedly, was obviously and objectively not suited to the conditions he demanded of it, because the aesthetic was good. When he goes hiking into the woods, he does so with a vintage style leather backpack that looks like it was purchased off Amazon. He insists he prefers an outdoor shower, an outdoor kitchen (!), rather than try to make any advancements that might’ve come after the Renaissance. Go back and look at the image of him above again; he's wearing an ascot , for chrissakes.

What else is there but "faking it?"

But the thing is, he’s out there, doing it. I can take issue with the methods, with the decisions he makes (and good god, I do), but he is doing it. He’s up in the Italian Alps, refinishing or rebuilding these cabins. He is living there. No one can claim he's not; he's got hours of video evidence! He doesn't claim to be an expert at much (though he does have the annoying habit of learning one thing from one source and parroting it as if he's got a degree in the field). He's just a guy out there doing stuff. So far, he's yet to resort to eating weeds, shivering in the snow. Yeah, when the going gets too tough, he heads down the mountain to stay in the closest town. Thoreau was getting his laundry done by his family, it's fine.

People take issue with the phrase "fake it until you make it." I get it, and I don't. Of course there's negative connotation with the idea of "faking it," of being a fraud—an imposter. But the thing I don't like about it is that is seems to suggest there's some sort of "real" or "true" path we're supposed to be on. You can't decide to learn cooking, can't you see in your heart of hearts you're a mechanic??

Those that take issue with the phrase make me think about people who put too much stock into the idea of "talent." Yeah, it's crazy this seven-year old can draw that well, but on the flipside, that means you could get as good as them in just seven years (or less! You're probably not also worrying about not shitting yourself). Unless you think someone was born with innate knowledge of carpentry, how else do you think they learned it besides starting from zero? What else is there but "faking it?"

I guess all this goes back to the idea of "just doing stuff." Live your life, have a little fun! There's no one path you've got to be on. If you want to do something different, give it a go. Martijn doesn't always know what he's doing, but he is out there, forging his own path, doing it.

I describe myself as a generalist, though that often has vaguely negative connotations as well. I like to think that I know what I know, and tend to know what I don't know, as well. But I'm not the sort of person who thinks there are things I simply can't do—only things I have the interest in learning and not. Chalk it up to my "whiteboy confidence": my greatest strength, my worst curse. But it's brought me this far. I'm excited to see how far I can go.

Subscribe to Refrakt

A bi-weekly newsletter on curiosity, creativity, and (hopefully!) insight, through the lens of photography, writing, study, art and beauty, and my life.

Subscribe

Email sent! Check your inbox to complete your signup.

Join 150+ members on the path.

Buy me a coffee