Last weekend I ran into a marvelous little treasure in the most unexpected of places. As a surprise for my grandfather's 97th (indeed: 97!) birthday I had flown back to the Netherlands and spent a weekend in my native Amersfoort. I cannot say I feel a lot of kinship with the city but it is undeniably a pretty town. Just how pretty it can be I discovered under the attic beams of the local cobbler! My shoes needed desperate mending and, it being the only pair of shoes I had brought with me, the cobbler was kind enough to fix them for me while I waited. Amazingly, I then learned that he and his twin brother are well-known local artists with a gallery above the store. In socked feet I browsed through their beautiful paintings of an Amersfoort as I have never seen it. Snow covered and idyllic, these paintings evoke images of a time long gone, yet feel as true a reflection of the city as can be. Beautiful colours, wonderful lines.
I'll bet your cobbler can't do that!
2 comments:
ours sits on a very tiny stool on the pavement and has the widest smile ever. that's it but he's the best too.
Nice, I like his paintings!
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