Last weekend I flew to Amsterdam with three names in mind: Vincent Van Gogh. This year is the 125th anniversary of his death, and the Van Gogh Museum is hosting a magnificent exhibition of his work beside the paintings and prints of Edvard Munch. With a long weekend and relatively cheap flights out of Casablanca, how could I pass this up?
We arrived late in the afternoon to a light drizzle and a pale sky. I hadn't been back to Amsterdam in twenty-one years— twenty-one years! I was fifteen, sketchbook in hand, flannel shirts and combat boots that I had painted the Greek gods and goddesses on.
And I was meeting Vincent Van Gogh again.