Saving Leonardo and The Bodegraven Autumn Fair

Before all else, I thought I'd post a picture of "the red chair". I got this chair during the Bodegraven Autumn Fair, at the church shop where folks bring stuff they don't want anymore. I saw this chair, fell in love, and bought it. It looks like no one's ever sat in it before, there's not a single spot or a single stain...no signs of wear. Some folks will discard at will...some folks (like me) are glad there are folks like that.

(It was the Annual Autumn Fair with the Cheese Queen Parade and all the hoo-hah that comes with that, and if you want to see fotos you can click on the link. It is all in Dutch except for the fotos. )

Anyway, the church shop takes this opportunity to sell whatever they've got and whatever doesn't get sold lands in the scrapheap. After rescuing the red chair and a couple of lovely rotan chairs, Joel Jan and I headed for the bookstands. Joel Jan bought books about the moon landing and an annual on the year 2000. Samuel got a thick carton book on trains, and I rescued Leonardo. Here's a little whimsy that resulted from that:

*****

Saving Leonardo

by Rochita Loenen-Ruiz

I saved Leonardo da Vinci from the scrapheap. It was two in the afternoon, and the bookstands were crawling with people scrabbling about for books and things. I spied Leonardo hiding under a pile of books—red leather bound spine peeked out at me, with “The World of Leonardo” printed in faded gold.

Lo and behold, here was Leonardo in his glory days, with the kneeling angel, the half completed almost surrealistic Saint Jerome, and other works that made me say yes to parting with a couple of euros in exchange for a peek into the great man’s brain.

I spotted Van Gogh and Michelangelo on the stand after I’d gotten my hands on Leonardo, but I waffled a bit as the man watching the stand was not willing to negotiate on the cost of both books. Later, I regretted not taking them home with me and decided to go back for them. Too late though, by the time I arrived at the church, the scrapheap men had arrived and I could hear the crash of glassware, the solid thunk of furniture and was just in time to see the remains of what used to be the bookstand being poured into the maw of the devourer.

Dear Vincent, I hope you’ll forgive me for not being on time to rescue you. I hope it comforts you to know that I do have a replica of you on my bookshelf, and someday, I’ll probably find another book bound example, with a red spine and faded gold letters that read: The World of Vincent.