follow

We may not understand someone’s journey, poetry or faith, but bloggers can appreciate those who stop by and spend time looking at our posts. A sign of camaraderie. We learn from each other, fall in love with works of art but also find objection and feel deep opinions. Gratitude reminds us we are alive. Life’s music, our heart beating as a drum; clearing thoughts, expanding horizons, seeing hidden perspectives we might not otherwise contemplate. This is life-long learning at its best. Wisdom derived from walking in someone’s shoes.

follow: to move forward along a road, path, river or sea

Life is a dance. Whether you glide over discouragement or stub your toes and scrape your knees, we celebrate how far we have come and know we will make it to the finish line. Still. Moving. Forward. What better gift is that? Encouragement to be yourself and love.

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You may see beauty in photography, paintings, poetry, quilting, dance or other writings. You are far above the crowd who struggle in boots that do not fit. They have not found out where they belong. We all have purpose and perhaps our art is to serve others. Vincent van Gogh had a beautiful understanding of life. Yet he did not belong. A tragic Shakespearean play. The end of Van Gogh’s story was not to be but to be in future minds and hearts. A visionary? He knew color would be accepted and plowed forth in confidence. We understood a little too late but understand just the same. We pray for those struggling.

my favorite painting on exhibit.
i even bought the poster.
it spoke to me
in silence i heard
his plea.
love me.

Love many things, for therein lies the true strength, and whosoever loves much performs much, and can accomplish much, and what is done in love is done well.
Love is the greatest gift we give. His art was not appreciated until he was gone. I challenge each of us to love today. Do not let another chance disappear to smile and say hello.
I feel that there is nothing more truly artistic than to love people.
I recently attended the Art Institute of Chicago’s exhibit “Van Gogh’s bedrooms”. His paintings up close do his work justice. Brushstrokes exemplifying life. Vivid colors to cheer a depressed world. A tragedy that his love went unnoticed. He continues to influence art lover’s with passion.
We feel him.
We know him.
We are him.

 

Finding the IMA

I have a macabre fascination with artists who have committed suicide. One, because I love art and the creative process and two, because I have family history of suicides and suicide ideation. In my quest to understand the mind of a person who desires nothing more than to be absent from the present, I have read and reread countless books. Recently, a van Gogh painting was advertised as being on display at the IMA and I knew immediately that I needed to make that a summer destination. This past Saturday my dream came true. I stood before van Gogh’s Landscape at Saint-Remy, 1889, and was blown away by the amount of paint, the number of brush strokes, the myriad of colors and the sheer fortitude he showed in completing a true masterpiece. His painting was by far my favorite of all the works seen, including Gaugahn, Pissarro, Monet and Rembrandt.

“There is nothing more truly artistic than to love people.”

“What am I in the eyes of most people — a nonentity, an eccentric, or an unpleasant person — somebody who has no position in society and will never have; in short, the lowest of the low. All right, then — even if that were absolutely true, then I should one day like to show by my work what such an eccentric, such a nobody, has in his heart. That is my ambition, based less on resentment than on love in spite of everything, based more on a feeling of serenity than on passion. Though I am often in the depths of misery, there is still calmness, pure harmony and music inside me. I see paintings or drawings in the poorest cottages, in the dirtiest corners. And my mind is driven towards these things with an irresistible momentum.”

–Vincent van Gogh

Volunteering at a homeless shelter I come across so many with those same sentiments. There is a little van Gogh in each of us.