Stoned Immaculate

Amsterdam! What a city! Religion, beauty, homeliness, vice, all along the same street in a beautiful co-existence. The most surreal moment was walking along a canal, the mental tranquillity of a marijuana haze, red lit streets on both sides and church bells resounding in the air.
The streets, how do you capture the craziness - bunches of tourists gawking at women displaying their wares in glass windows. And what was wondrous was that the tourists were groups of men and women, ordinary men and women, husbands wives, mothers fathers, gazing at the world's oldest profession.

As for the Dutch, even though they seem to permit just about everything, they don't seem to smile as much. If I met them on the street, just might think of them as russians.
The most wondrous memory, seeing the real works of the master. His scribbles, his sketchings - what an eye!! Crows over a wheatfield - negative, despair? I haven't seen a painting exude that amount of vitality...ever.....couldn't have imagined it possible with paints. And then to drive back looking at the countryside, this time through his eyes.
After the trip, am trying to figure out which are my favourite Van Gogh's. Due to paucity of space, will limit it to four.