Amsterdam, The Netherlands

In The Garden Of Lavender, The Tulip Becomes A Weed

Heineken tastes exactly the same off the tap as it does from the bottle. This is not the strangest part of Amsterdam.

I haven't been able to walk two blocks in this city without getting lost. This works out well for me, as I rarely have somewhere to be, but it's occasionally frustrating. I'm quite good with maps, and found myself very quickly at home in Reykjavik - things are very different here. Fortunately, everything is rather stunning, and the kilometers I've spent wandering have certainly not been for the worse.

Despite the innate beauty of this city, I haven't really taken to much photography here - I'll be back next week for Queen's Day, and anticipate getting my fill then. I think I've been a bit overwhelmed at my introduction to a true European city. Charming Reykjavik is just cute by comparison.

It's pleasantly slow-paced. Despite being a major metropolitan area, nobody seems in too much of a hurry to do anything... or to be going anywhere at all. There are no highrises or roaring interstates. Plenty of time and space has been dedicated to aesthetic, even to the detriment of function. The bike traffic here is phenomenal - I can't imagine trying to drive a car on these roads that were clearly never meant for such vehicles. This must be what the San Francisco bike coalition wishes it could do. I'm amazed.



Moreso, I've come to a significant realization of erroneous past assumptions. For reasons unknown, I have so far in life worked under the assumption that European nations had benevolently donated their finest artistic works to American museums for me to personally witness. Naturally, there would be a few masterpieces left here, but I've seen the majority of the good stuff already.

So yeah - I'm learning a lot about how I don't know anything. European art museums are an entirely different experience from any fine art museum I've ever visited - rather than archetypal period art, they present a fuller array, fleshing out every aspect of an artistic era, and providing a multifaceted view that cannot be accomplished with a few select works. It's an unexpected treat to see so many new pieces by some of my longtime favorites, and further, to learn of the artists they taught and inspired.

Plus, much of this art is delightfully gruesome! Glorious depictions of terrible ship battles, amidst storms and sea monsters. Gory depictions of disemboweled martyrs hung by their ankles. You know, proper art. I guess American censorship is present in many unexpected places. This all bodes very well for my continued European art tour.



I've spent most of my time here in Amsterdam wandering along shimmering canals and through sunlit park expanses - my warmest Icelandic day still felt better with a wool hat, and this is a energizing change. While relaxing and comfortable, I don't feel much compulsion to stay here - it seems that there are important things to see outside this concentrically canaled and eerily homogeneous utopia. Plus the hostel facility sucks, despite providing some good nightlife companions.

So I will soon depart, taking with me the new goal of exploring the places where these aforementioned artists spent their lives. I want to find out if there is anything left in those places that so motivated them to create, and whether or not I myself can see it.