Letters to Tuvia#281:Writing with Van Gogh (8-12-16)


Evening T,
I’m hoping that the slow internet at the Hotel Nes, doesn’t fail me for a third time, so fingers-crossed.
The Van Gogh Museum was packed by 2pm and as much as I loved being surrounded by old friends I wrote everywhere: standing near painting, on benches in front of paintings, writing up against the wall. No matter where I was crowds surrounded me but I kept writing…
Heres what I came up with:
It’s almost our first anniversary of forced separation and I am still not used to your absence.
Here in Amsterdam, the city we planned on exploring together,
There’s not a minute
There’s,p Not a second of this trip that I don’t miss you
I am exploring in Sharon and Eddies rhythm
I miss us.in this comfortable city

I walk through a special exhibition on Van Goguh’s insanity
And remember that together in Paris
We walked through a similar exhibit at the Orangerie.
In our museum rhythm We walked as islands,
you moved slower, more thoughtfully
I raced thru and at the finish turned back turn back
To find you and move through a second time at your pace
Over time, I learned that couldn’t sneak up and surprise you.
You had to hear my footsteps even if you didn’t see me,
Then I could come to you in a whisper with a kiss and you would grin
“It’s me.”

I’m here today
Caught up in yesterday
Inspired by Van Gogh and his museum
Yesterday We walked in the rain
I was well dressed- covered and warm but the rain was carried by an ungentle wind
I was wet and nervous about my visit to Anne Frank’s attic.
Finally we arrived waiting for our scheduled time
(thanks to Sharon’s 3 am online effort
Soon we were inside and moving up the stairs
I had to move through Anne’s house
on my own.
The shaking began immediately,
in respectful silence
We walked
Step by step floor by floor room by room
on hallowed ground
We walked in Anne’s steps

And I walked with you
My Jewishness has been deepening this year
My connection to Israel
My connection to you
I moved quickly through the boards of information
Slowing for her words…
Just to be in her space

We would be digesing the experience together now..
Digesting the city …

I cannot stop missing you
Missing us…

Bonnie S.




"writing is the painting of the voice" -Voltaire-

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