We spent the morning at the Van Gogh museum. It was my one 'must do' thing here in Amsterdam, and it was just as magical as I'd hoped it would be. Four floors of his work, related works, and some really cool displays showcasing different aspects of his life and his art. One of the cool unexpected little treasures was a wooden box of his where he kept little balls of colored yarn that he'd intertwine in skeins to see how the colors would interplay. There they were, all these little two-toned bundles of wool in the brushstroke colors of his palette that he'd wound together over 100 years ago. Lovely.
We're down the final night of our trip. It's been over a month for me. I have a sketchbook full of half finished paintings, ticket stubs, postcards and ephemera that will complete themselves (and appear here) over the next month or so, an extra 20 lbs of books to somehow stuff into a suitcase, a few little art treasures and about a kilo of bread, wine and cheese around my waist to work off after get home. I wouldn't change thing about this trip. The places we've stayed, the people we've met, it's all been perfect. Sometime mid afternoon tomorrow I'll be anxious to get off the plane and resume my Vancouver life.
But in the meantime there's a moonlit canal-side restaurant out there somewhere with our names written on it. Will update soon.