"I paint as a means to make life bearable. Don't weep. What I have done is best for all of us. No use, I shall never be rid of this depression." Vincent Van Gogh.
The relationship between art and unhappiness has never been so poignantly expressed. Dutch painter Vincent Van Gogh left the above words behind before killing himself in 1890 with a gunshot to his chest at the age of 37. In a mad flurry (manic) of activity in Arles, France, during the last two years of his life, Van Gough cut off his left earlobe, but painted some of his most ecstatic works.
Don McLean wrote the lyrics and tune to "Vincent" many decades ago and I find them so poignant today.
Starry, starry night
Paint your palette blue and gray
Look out on a summer's day
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul
Shadows on the hills
Sketch the trees and daffodils
Catch the breeze and the winter chills
In colors on the snowy linen land
Now I understand what you tried to say to me
How you suffered for your sanity
How you tried to set them free
They would not listen, they did not know how
Perhaps, they'll listen now
Starry, starry night
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze
Swirling clouds in violet haze
Reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue
Colors changing hue
Morning fields of amber grain
Weathered faces lined in pain
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand
Now I understand what you tried to say to me
How you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free
They would not listen, they did not know how
Perhaps, they'll listen now
For they could not love you
And still your love was true
And when no hope was left inside
on that starry, starry night
You took your life as lovers often do
But I could have told you, Vincent
This world was never meant
for one as beautiful as you
Starry, starry night
Portraits hung in empty hall
Frameless heads on nameless walls
With eyes that watch the world and can't forget
Like the strangers that you've met
The ragged man in ragged clothes
The silver thorn of bloody rose
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow
Now I think I know what you tried to say to me
How you sufferedfor your sanity
Then how you tried to set them free
They would not listen, they're not listening still
Perhaps, they never will..
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10 comments:
poor Vince.
Many famous artists had mental disorders. It's sad, they are so unhappy yet provide us with so much beauty! xoxo
Such an evocative song and such an evocative artist. I've always been amazed at the joy and beauty in Van Gogh's paintings in counterpoint to the pain in his life.
Wonderful entry. I love the art by VanGogh. I have his "Sunflowers" print in my home. It is beyond belief in a way, that such an amazing talent would kill himself......the true tortured artist.
~JerseyGirl
Such a tortured soul...such an amazing talent.
-Connie
lovely entry.......... what a man. judi
Anne, Found you at last. I must have listened to this song thousand's of times, maybe hundred's. Never took the time to really listen or understand the lyrics. Songs are like understanding a child or loved one that has problems, you have to READ the lyrics to understand.
Is Saturday's Child your blog site or is this an AOL journal site that people contribute to? I am unfamilar to this blog format. Opend up a whole new place to look at bloogers (not that I needed that)
blogrvdiking ( I had to get a screen name to comment.)
So sad, so beautiful. great entry. rich
Thank you for your love and friendship. judi
In an Intro to Art class that I had as an undergrad, my prof put up the slide of "starry night" and played the song, and I sniffled all the way through, which was extremely bewildering for the girl I was signing the song for...poignant entry, anne, huggles to you and yours, debra
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