Vincent's Yellow

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

Business Business Business

I sit at the end of a wonderful day. Today, unlike many — most — days in the life of the artist (gosh, it still feels awfully cheesy to use language like that sometimes, but to hell with it), today was full of reassurance. In many different ways I was told to relax, that I am on the right path, and that I can let myself breathe a little. I haven’t felt such a cosmic pat on the back since my incredible last day¬†of YellowEurope. I was given all sorts of rewards today, from a job offer to (literally) massages from the voluntary hands of very sweet children. It is a rare day for me to have, probably for anyone to have, but it is particularly rare for an artist, and I’ll make my case:

As an artist, you have no boss. You get very few pats on the back, regardless of how hard you may toil. There is no promotion to look forward to (neither in position, nor, for the most part, in salary), but simply a dream of a future of enough appreciation so that you may work away many hours of your life at what you do best, what you felt you were put here to do. That is the highest dream of the artist. At least, the good artists. I rarely think the good artists are power or money hungry. (There, I said it.)

And this week has been all about business business business. And in some ways, that’s more relaxing. Certainly gives me a nice break from editing text (which you can only do successfully for certain periods of time, then you just have to walk away), though I did spend many hours editing images last night. And so… voila! My business card. FINALLY.

photography and design by Teresa Veramendi

design by Teresa Veramendi

That would be the sun through the fields where it is thought Vincent shot himself (and I’m inclined, after the strange way I ended up in that spot, to believe it is true), and a little piece of wheat from that field, that I took home with me from Auvers-sur-Oise. I wanted the card to be personal despite how mass-produced a business card is, so there you go: my handwriting, your field, Vincent. The only way to get my handwriting in yellow on a photograph was to make a print and use a paint pen, for the curious… it demanded several layers. So. A[n] [auto]biography and a love story. That’s all I really have to say.

HA – if that were true, I wouldn’t be writing a play and a book, would I? Yes, I giggle at such silly things…

I am also officially posting calls for auditions and interviews with possible collaborators. If you are in Chicago and want to get in on the conversation or if you know someone in Chicago who might want to get in on the conversation, just look at this, forward it along:

Looking for 3W, 2M: collaborators, performers, dancers, and music-makers, particularly people who can do more than one, for an original work about Vincent van Gogh, love across time and space, and why we all make art in the first place.

Directed, produced and written by produced playwright and Off Broadway performer Teresa Veramendi (NYU Drama graduate with a masters in Performance Studies).

It’s been three years in the making, come jump in the deep end. Rehearsals begin May 21st, performances July 29th through August. Email me at to schedule an interview.

Seriously. Let’s not be shy about this. :)

Next up, I’m opening a business checking account, getting Paypal hooked up, and then if you lovely people feel inclined to donate to my art-machine-heart-fire, I’ll make it easy as pie for you (can a silly metaphor cancel out a poetic one? I hope not!) I’m going to try to figure out a way so that for any donation of $20 or more, I’ll send you a Van Gogh postcard with some of my related poetry written on it. I just have to figure out how to keep track of who’s who… I’ll be updating later this week on that, keep an eye out.

Last but not least, I stumbled upon a series of Vincent’s drawings the other day that took my breath away, so enjoy, my friends. From March 1884. Winter scenes in Nuenen. Pretend you’re drinking tea if you’re not.

Thanks to

Thanks to

Thanks to

I always find it wonderfully cosy to sit by a fire in the dusk and to look through the window at a snow-covered landscape.

Vincent, between 15 and 16 of March 1883 to artist Anthon van Rappard

(I couldn’t really go the whole post without sharing a little Vincent, could I?)


Tue, March 16 2010 » Personal, Research, Theater piece

2 Responses

  1. Judy Veramendi March 16 2010 @ 17:04


  2. Judy Veramendi March 16 2010 @ 17:05

    You do Vincent proud…

One Ping

  1. Past so heavy, future with so much light | Vincent's Yellow April 26 2010 @ 11:51

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