Vincent's Yellow

a[n] [auto]biography and a love story.

Auvers: Part 3

One of the things that Vincent and I have in common is a love of old things.  The worn, the rusted, the aged – that which many people find messy or ugly – is beautiful to me because it speaks of the time that has passed, the character of a place, the history of what something once was, and what it is now. It is that love that caused me to be completely and utterly charmed by Auvers-sur-oise.  It is a delicate and quiet place, robust and full — matured to perfection.

Although I love history everywhere, it of course sang quite fully that day in Auvers as I imagined Vincent walking through this place one hundred and nineteen years ago, choosing subjects to paint. Whether it be the town…

…or the plateau.

And have I mentioned how much I love the big old wooden shutters?

As I was finally leaving this exquisite place, there was one last gem in store for me. I had missed it on the way into town, and I had not read about it in any of the pamphlets. But as I walked back to the train station, I noticed a small, walled off park. There was an entrance, and as I peered inside from across the street, I saw it —

And my heart stopped.

And you strode forth into the yellow light of dusk,
Skin and clothing etched by the wooden wrinkles of Time,

And your branches were reaching up and up,
And your thirst was unquenchable as ever,

Your presence

subtly pervasive,

Your spirit

rooted deep into the ground,

And it seemed your path went on forever…

In fact

I knew it did.

Mon, November 2 2009 » Personal, Photo entries, Research, Travel

2 Responses

  1. Judy Veramendi November 2 2009 @ 15:34

    Oh, that was so lovely it brought tears to my eyes… You and Vincent travelling hand in hand.

  2. Teresa November 7 2009 @ 20:49

    I only let myself do it for a single moment – but oh, it was worth it!

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