Easter Eggs In Amsterdam


Many years ago I got interested in the stock market and luckily the first shares I bought in the electricity shares rose nicely. Blimey, this was terrific - it was the first time I got some money without having to earn it through working. My mum and dad were cautious and had worked for everything they had - the stock market was a bit of a scary black hole to them.


I invested more over the years have had exclaimed many whoops of joy and groans of misery as things have soared and soured. Sometimes the investments fall into the red and Iíve sometimes worked for a year for nothing, my whole salary being me back up to a total yearís profit of nil (thankfully Iím patient and things normally recover.) Sometimes it goes the other way and many years ago my investments rose approximately £8,000 in about a week. I treated my sister and brother-in-law to a long weekend in Amsterdam and this painting stems from this visit.


We booked into the hotel around which were hoops of prostitutes in windows. Across the road from my hotel window was a chunky lady with big love globes. I thought prostitutes only sat in the windows from late afternoon but this woman was beckoning to passing men at 8:30 in the morning. When the postman passed she cupped her love globes and wiggled them at him but he was immune. He was probably scared witless and didnít post anything in her box.


My brother-in-law took a photo of the woman with the bouncy Easter eggs and my sister framed the photo as a birthday present. I thought Iíd do a quick painting based on the photo.


Iíve always liked how these ball-draining whores sell themselves yet sometimes have fluffy innocent animals in their windows (note top window.) If you go to Amsterdam youíve just got to trundle around the seedy bits as much as the picturesque bits. Once I was walking down a street in Amsterdam and a beggar kept asking for money. He was persistent and put two fingers to my temple and said, ďIf you donít give me some money Iíll shoot you in the head.Ē My chum exploded and laid into the beggar who I noted was already bruised. I often wonder what became of him. Perhaps he got beaten unconscious and a restauranteur found his unconscious body, sawed him up, and put him into some meat pies.


Here is a painting done quickly without failures to reverse. It all came together quickly and Iím sure it shows in the quality.


Unfortunately by the time we returned to Amsterdam the £8,000 rise in my investment had retreated to nothing. I hadnít gained much Ė except memories of those Easter eggs.




Setting off. Alfie doesnít look very happy about itÖ