Visiting Holland For The Second Time Warm Memories Of My Granny

Artist Marie Brozova's recollections of the public drawing event in Holland.

"What beautiful thing have you seen?" asked my granny always when I returned back home from my travels, even if it was only a short walk around the corner to the baker's. And because I knew in advance that she would ask me, I was looking for all the beautiful things I could tell her about, because she went out only rarely; she had bad hurting legs. My granny has not been her for many years now, but every time I go out, I always try to see something beautiful, and this will never change thanks to my granny. So I can only dream about sitting in her cozy kitchen filled with the sweet smell of her cake and chicory coffee substitute, with my granny at the table in front of me. She would wipe her hands sprinkled with flour on her apron and ask me: "Now, you must tell me, what beautiful things you have seen in Holland?"

"Granny, just imagine that there are canals with boats sailing in the middle of the streets in Amsterdam. And in the part of Amsterdam called Jordaan there are houseboats berthed close one another all the way of the canal. And all of them have gardens on the board. Real gardens full of flowers in pots of all kinds, think of that, there are flowers growing in rusted watering cans, wicker baskets, tins of tea or oil, leaky cooking pots but in the middle of it you can see beautiful ceramics work. And around all this you can see cats walking around and sleeping and also huge sea gulls resting. And when you look into the small windows of these houseboats, you see small cozy homes! Once we saw a whole piano with sheet of music and a candlestick inside."

"Oh, that's amazing! A piano inside a houseboat? How did they move it in?" asks my granny, who was always so skilled in practical matters and was able to move even the biggest wardrobes without any help.

"That I really don't know. But the houses by the canals are very small too, and they told me that the staircases inside are so narrow, that people have serious problems to get larger things, like the piano, inside. They must move it through their windows. And because of that, there is a pulley under the roof of almost every house."

"Gee, that's very exciting. And have another piece of cake, don't be shy. You are as thin as a rake."

And think of that, granny, in one town called Spakenburg, they have a port leading to the main square. You are walking down the street, on the left side you can see their prettified gardens, you can spot two cats lying in the window sill embracing a pottery cat statue, or a small windmill in the middle of the flowerbed surrounded by the plaster dwarfs. And on the right side, instead of the sidewalk, there are ships berthed, old fishing boats beside sailboats and modern motorboats. And old ladies in that town wear very strange, and obviously very uncomfortable traditional costumes. And they are wearing them when they are riding on bicycles!

"Golly! If I could ride a bicycle. And did you get to the seaside?"

"Of course we did! And you can get there by tram in Haag. It takes only 15 minutes to get there from the center. The terminal station is just under the sand dunes. You step out of the tram and you are by the seaside!"

"Terrific! And what did you eat in Holland. And have another cake, by jove!"

"We enjoyed the most delicious kinds of cheese you can imagine. The best cheese you could buy at markets. In many historical towns there were fairs and markets in the main square, in Delft or in Amersfoort. You pointed at the yellow loaf of cheese you liked, and they gave you a slice to taste. Then you could decide if you want to buy it. And we also fell in love with Dutch ginger bread, honey sweet and sprinkled with whole walnuts on the top. And those famous Dutch wafers I have brought for you. Did you like them?"

"Very, very delicious, that's true. They simply melted in my mouth. Oh, people in Holland must have wonderful time."

"But Granny, your cakes are the best in the whole world."

"Do you think so? Oh, have another one, please."

And this Granny I portrayed in my Dutch drawing, standing in the hollow of the old linden tree in golden afternoon of Indian summer. There are many kids gathered around her listening to her fairy tales. The whole drawing is yellow with the sunshine, linden leaves and kindness. Even my recollections of my granny are yellow. She had a specific talent to break the rules and change the most common things into small wonders. I remember that one day she put two armchairs together and made an improvised ship for me. She made the small bed with yellow comforter and pillows, made a cup of cocoa for me, and I could have been sailing on the board of this unique ship, reading books and the window was open wide to the distant horizons of that unforgettable summer. And when we moved to a different apartment and there was nothing in the large living room except from the huge armchair on small wheels, my granny had another idea. I got on the board and she covered the whole armchair with a yellow blanket, and than carried me around the room singing songs. Granpa almost suffered a heart attack when he came back home that day, because granny made lines into the brand new linoleum. "So what?" she told him and she was right. The once new linoleum was consumed by time, but the memory of the yellow shelter will follow me as long as I live.

I drew the picture of my Czech granny, but Dutch people saw their own grandparents in the drawing and they recalled their own childhood memories, their own yellow shelters. The smiles were mixed with tears and one exceptional woman-priest even saw in my granny the real face of God. "You go so far to meet God, across the seven forests and seven rivers to the world's end and then you reach a forest shelter with a granny, who invites you inside for a cup of tea. And then you know you have reached the aim of your journey."

We spoke together often without needing words because our Dutch is limited to very few phrases and expressions and not all Dutch people speak fluently foreign languages. But it was very interesting to observe, how people explain the deepest thoughts using only basic expressions. Such thoughts hit the target. One charming hobo, looking very similar to Paris clochards, told me in his broken English that he remembered very well the faces he used to see in everything around him when he was a small boy. He saw faces in the trees, in walls, in houses, in cars, everything seemed to be alive. He was very glad to see these faces in my pictures. "When you see faces in things, when you act as if everything was alive, you cannot harm nature, you cannot destroy anything of value. When you stop seeing faces, you can become a banker. You can feel as the president of the planet and destroy everything within your reach." This original simple equation hit me. Not only that am I not able to hurt nature, I have problems to discard thing that have become my friends. I do not want to part with them. I asked my mom to sew a pillow made of the tea-shirt with lion I used to love more than twenty five years ago. I have no wishes to change my home according to the fashion. I buy only those things I hope they will outlast me. If all the people were like me, all the bankers would go bankrupt. But in spite of this all I am really glad that I still can see faces in everything.

A charming Afro-Dutchman who visited me often with his blonde wife and a couple of very handsome and sharp children, noticed how nice it was that the granny had a pink headscarf. He marveled at the mystery that pink color suits the best small girls and old grannies, as if people returned back to their childhood while growing old, when the time belongs to them and eternity. Wise people are those, who are able to keep the children's point of view even in the troubled seas of adulthood that lies between the quiet ports of childhood and old age.

A nice old lady, who looked just like the granny from my fairytale drawings, addressed me with a smile: "You will never get old. You still believe in fairytales."

Czech Republic is very popular in Holland. Dutch people feel like home in our country and besides, it is much cheaper, so they can unbridle their natural frugal character. No wonder that they keep wonderful memories of their holidays spent in Bohemia. When some articles about my project were published in newspapers, I was visited by many Czech-lovers but also many Czech people living in Holland. Would you believe that I arranged in Holland a project in Czech Republic for the next year? That would make my granny laugh.