fujifilm superia < 3
This is the oldest city in America and I am strolling down the cobblestone streets in my silver shoes and yellow tourist sweater feeling like I am in a Nicholas Sparks movie.
Oh, how I miss spending my days wandering the streets in my floral dress, bare footed, eating ice cream. How summer makes my soul spontaneous and fills my heart with joy and burst from happiness. How everything seem simple. How everything seem better.
I met Marijn when I stayed at his parents house in Amsterdam. When he sat down to have breakfast with us, I instantly knew I had to ask him if I could photograph him. Sometimes you meet people who just captivate you, not always necessarily by looks but by quirks and personality. Marijn had this innocent sweetness about him and I was so happy he agreed to let me take his picture.
Class of ’06
We spent an extremely cold weekend in Amsterdam, riding through the city on our rented bikes, exploring what I would say is the most strangely beautiful city I’ve ever been to. We stayed in a small cottage with wooden walls, a bit outside of the city. It was the guest house of Marga and Ricos houseboat, the most charming and amazing home I’ve ever seen.
It was a weekend of wandering, photographing and listening to stories from the locals. We explored the botanical gardens, the narrow streets by the canals and was served tea by Nils; the owner of the smallest house of Amsterdam. We spent an evening walking the red light district and felt especially cultural when we went to the museum of prostitution. In the evening we lit the fireplace, drank cheap wine and listened to dutch radio.