Amsterdam- I rise with the screeching of the tram wheels. I promise a friend I will advise the instructor.
“Can I practice in my underwear?”
I purchase a pair of yoga pants made entirely from recycled hot plastic. Class begins. I laugh a lot. My thoughts entertain me. I take sips of air until I can deepen my breath again.
My next stop is Keren de Vreede’s gallery on the Prinsengracht. I ask Ido for a tissue and I ask for the name of the piece.
“I’ve never done this before,” I say.
“Well, think about it.”
I shuffle down the gracht into de Jordaan and stoppen into Rosereijn for a thee. I buy a map of the world. Now, to see a friend.
A beautifully built man with the eyes of royalty is in soft light.
“Goedemiddag” I say stepping into the groene doored garage.
He replies, but I do not understand him.
“No spreckt Nederlands, Anglaise astublief.”
At the time I met him on Overtoom he invited me for thee in the jardin.
I didn’t take one then, but I will take one now. He leads me up the stairs.
“We did yoga on the beds.”
I leave him.
Back out into the wild winds. I finish my shopping in Nieuwmarkt and take the tram to Museumplein. I know Roy will be there. Did you know Dali has a cookbook?
I am in love again.