While recovering from being hit by a car (for details click here), I worked as an cleaning lady. Basically, I cleaned offices. I set my own hours, often starting 2 am. It would take me four hours to do the work and most of the office people arrived at 6 am. I was about 20 years old. I had a lot of freedom.
I was really nutty back then, being alone was best. Again, I was recovering from a significant brain injury. (details here if you wish). This one time, whilst working late at night, I xeroxed my bare chest on one of the copiers. The paper got didn't come out. I had to pry open various drawers and doors to yank it out. I still have that copy in my personal files. The image is distorted. The paper is wrinkled and smooshed from being caught in the machine.
I would also clean a garage/car fix it shop. They had a pinball machine in the way back. Never played though. It was a huge warehouse type place. Really dusty and semi slick with grease.
That being said, one time, I was almost late for my two am shift. Because of this movie.
It details the last 60 days of Vincent Van Gogh. Now, I am not a huge fan of Vincent. I like him, just not in that way. I enjoy his thick use of paint, the explosions of expression on canvas.
But, it lacks figures or people in his paintings. He was poor man, thus, very little money for a model. He used himself alot. Which leaves the viewer with a rather stern impression of the man.
Beyond that I don't have much to say about his art. Again, art that attracts me the most-- has people in it. Landscapes and such don't really do it for me.
That being said, it was a very good film. I didn't catch the ending though (again, I had to work.) It was one of my first peeks into a life gently pulsing with mental illness.
Mental illness is now my full time job. Obviously, it is of interest to me. Also of interest, autobiographies. Another interest? Art. Which brings me to this book. It has all three.
This book contains Vincent's letters to his brother Theo. Theo was a caring and supportive brother. There was a lot of love between the two. They died six months apart. That says volumes.
Anyway, the letters are long and sometimes rambling. (I know, I know- pot calling kettle black and all). But fascinating all the same. Will do a post on this. Stay tuned.
In the meantime, I eventually watched the whole thing with Mr. Hall. Of note during this viewing, a scene between Vincent and the prostitutes. He enjoyed the company of these women. It is gentle, these scenes.
Achingly gentle when I think back. The very memory catches my breath. Vincent was a solitary and isolated man. But he had love to give and wanted to be loved. Even if he payed these women to love them, it was love all the same.
They say when men ring the bell to the brothel, they are really looking for God.
Have an arty weekend! :)