Rare Leeftijd

Ricky is going solo. But this time for real. Without musicians. Though with a guitar, of course. She has no idea why, but she is restless. She is bothered by a messy jawline, by people who speak too softly, by kiwis from New Zealand, by breathing in and out for too long during yoga, and it turns out she sometimes thinks out loud. She talks about her teenage son who is no longer waiting for her, while her parents are demanding more and more attention. Meanwhile, she doesn't know if she can still flirt with younger men because she isn't sure if she is old or not. She thinks she is. Ricky observes her surroundings and herself keenly. Has the world gone mad, or is she just in a strange phase herself? Friends say: 'You are at a weird age, that’s the reason. It’s just temporary.' She herself had hoped that at this point in her life she would finally feel like she had achieved something. That she would walk around cheering, freed from the opinions of others. What always helps, though, is singing. So she sings the most beautiful songs like a young blackbird.