Tuesday, 3 April 2012

In het paleis

Some days ago, while staring at the nothingness that surrounds my office, I briefly wondered about a day trip to The Hague to visit the museum dedicated to M.C. Escher called "Escher in het Paleis".
Just the name of the museum made me want to go and visit, is't funny and funky:  M.C. Escher in the palace... the M.C. is in da house.
And it reminds me of The Clash:
"I'm Escher in the palais
Just lookin' for fun
I'm only looking for fun"

I can't really pronounce the name of the museum correctly: I'm trying so hard to stiffen the impulse to sing it to the tune of the song that at the end I stumble with words and people don't really understand what I'm talking about (quite a  common feeling for me anyway). In my head I can hear myself almost screaming the last part, "in the palaaais!" and feeling I can and have to dance a little while pronouncing it.

Anyway I thought about going to the museum, then decided to procrastinate at the best of my ability. There's always time for visiting it, I can go another weekend, it's cold, it's better to wait... the eternal do-it-later philosophy of mine that got me in so many troubles.

But to say that there's always time is a partial lie: time is limited in this country, in this planet, in this universe and if you want or need to do something, burying your head in the sand, hoping things will be sorted once you pull it out, is not going to work.
I don't believe in signs, but... last week everything was pointing me to Escher: his name would pop out as by magic basically all around me. I was checking the RSS feed and here it was a post dedicated to him. I was reading an article and halfway through it there was some reference to his work.
When I thought I was safe, tweeter filled up of tweets about him and Mick Jagger. Too many coincidences to not get on a train to The Hague.

The palace used to be the winter palace of Queen Emma: it's not a huge royal palace, but still, I bet the heating cost of it must be dreadfully high. It's a really nice museum, probably one I enjoyed the most here in the Netherlands so far.

The only way to get to the last floor of the exhibition is through the backstairs and funny enough they just look out of a Escher drawing:

Going down

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