I've been wanting to write about my idol, and my love, Vincent Van Gogh for sometime now, so here I go.
I don't know why, but I just feel so close to him--like I know him. I understand his work, you know, the reason why he did it in the first place. Everyone stroke, I can feel it-- Whether in anger, passion or sadness, I know. I feel let in on his secret mood in between the lines of the painting.
It never occurred to me that I was more like him than I thought. Of course, I'm certainly not under depression, but we're both artists (In my opinion) and we're both born hopeless romantics. (I know what youre thinking, not more of this bloody "Hopeless Romantic" crap again!) But hear me out.
I can see it in his writing (I've come across a couple of women he'd pathetically tried to propose to) Poor man.
Sometimes I wish that I could invent a time machine to go back & nestle into his life. I'd make sure he didn't kill himself when the end came near. It wouldn't be hard to keep him happy, or, at least, content. He didn't have too many fans in his day, so the least bit of honest attention would sustain him.
I'm not obsessed, I swear. But everywhere I see his work I feel an understanding, like a little place inside me is screaming with pride, "Hey, I know that guy!".
But now, I'm even too embarressed to further into this conversation. More will come tomorrow =] Bye!
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