05 Jul 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Travelogue, No Comments.

07/05 Amsterdam, Netherlands

We divided up the day between Rembrandt and Van Gough.  Sadness is Van Gough’s greatness and without his blood and wed of failures, such masterpieces perhaps would have never been put to canvas.  I can relate to the color and texture of his turmoil and find myself too at times walking around in a daze.  In contract his colors were bright and unique.  Rembrandt has no equal in that range of chiaroscuro.  Seems with age his brushwork became bolder.  Its thickness seemed to float over the canvas.  We viewed a myriad of contrasting styles, contrasting periods and even contrasting museums.  The award goes to Van Gough.  For those who believe that every museum was laid out by a mad man that had a faddish for mazes, his was the exception.

I looked out from that window, above the red light shinning below, my eyes following eyes that watch every step, like clowns that dance in the circus.  It doesn’t bother me if the clown’s expression never changes, he always seemed sad to me anyway.  Women would solicit their services.  Young boys were yelling discounted prices across the canal.  Insecurity and egos collide and clash, each adding different colors to the canvas.  Waves of contradictions flood my mind as I absorbed these imagines and incorporated them into a fantasy of her.  She is beautiful, many are beautiful, but what is real?  I laced up my shoes and headed out into the night.

That love in her eyes, it’s playing – sharp as the blade of death,
the love on her lips, it’s straying – hidden in comfort’s breath

Love on her breasts, is painted – swelling with sweet desire
only the touch of another – sets this woman’s heart to fire

We took another long night train back to Scandinavia.  About the time we arrived in Uppsala Sweden, Jim’s love sickness had broken into a full-blown fever.  We couldn’t get through a single conversation without him bringing her up again.  “Go get her” I demanded.  “Stop taking about it and just do it”.  I on the other hand wasn’t interested in watching two playing house, so over a pizza and a game of chess we discussed options.  We decided to head in separate directions and to meet up at Solsberg’s house in two weeks time.  We set a date and agreed that three day prior to the date we would each call Solsberg’s house at noon and leave a message confirming that no unexpected situation arose and that these plans were unchanged, or , explaining where and when we’d meet and adjust from there.  Jim left with a hand full of flowers expecting a kiss.  I left with a bus ticket and an open road.