For Christmas I received a beautiful book on Vincent Van Gogh. I started to read it and stopped to write this passage, an exerpt, from Letter 309 to Theo, his brother. He kept constant contact with his brother and his whole career could be summed up with these very discript letters. He believed there is a connection between painting and literature, so in doing, he wrote his brother constantly to whom his support was constantly given.
The extract of this letter can parallel the reasons I do what I do and it stopped me in my tracks, to capitalize on this moment of inspiration. It says it all, and I’m sure I’m not the only one who has these feelings. Read it for yourselves and take it for what it is. We all have something to give.
“I not only began drawing relatively late, but in addition I may well not have so very many years of life ahead of me (…) As far as the time that remains for my work is concerned, I believe that without being premature I can assume that this body of mine will still keep going, despite everything , for a certain number of years yet- say, between six and ten. I feel all the more able to assume this since at present there is not yet a proper ‘despite everything’ in my life (…) I do not intend to spare myself or pay much heed to moods or problems- it is a matter of some indifference to me whether I have a longer or a shorter life, and in any case physical mollycoddling such as a doctor can accomplish up to a point is not to my taste.”
“So I am continuing in my life of ignorance, though there is one thing I do know: within a few years I must accomplish work of a certain order; I do not need to be in too much of a hurry, because no good comes of that- but I must go on working calmly and quietly, with as great a regularity and composure as possible, and as much to the point as possible; the world is my concern only insofar as I have a certain debt and obligation, so to speak- because I have been wandering about this world these thirty years (ok, for me a little longer…) - to leave a certain something in memory of me behind, drawings or paintings, out of gratitude- not made in order to gratify some fashion or other but to express an honest human feeling. That work, then, is my objective (…)”