Vincent's Yellow

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

Heating Up and Blossoming

Things are heating up.

So much so, that I forgot to actually check the winner of the poll I took last week for the Twitter performance before the winning time slot had passed! Ack!

Firstly, I apologize, profusely. Secondly, the performance on Twitter (a conversation between Vincent and I that you can join if you’re on Twitter!) will take place a week later than the voted on time. That is: this Saturday, April 24th, at 4pm Central Standard Time. For those who are there to read or join, I hope you enjoy what I have in store for you. :)

I hope you’ll forgive me in the meantime, because I am trying to keep so many balls in the air that it’s a bit absurd. Money and budgeting is rearing its ugly and predictable head (though don’t you worry, nothing will stop Yellow from happening).  I am also going out of the country for two weeks for my brothers wedding in the middle of May, so I must get certain things accomplished before then. I want to be able to return from the trip and begin rehearsals immediately. This means the show must be cast, the schedule set, fundraisers organized (oh yes, there will be a few parties for your enjoyment if you are around Chicago) etc more or less before I leave in three weeks. I’m also going to see if I can get sponsorship from Van Gogh Vodka. I mean, it’s kinda fitting, right?

To help organize myself, I finally invested in a weekly planner… a Van Gogh planner, of course. The positive aspect of Vincent’s commodification is that I can easily surround myself with him and his work. It doesn’t take much effort at all, in fact. Anyway, this planner is cheap and worth it, in case you are needing one. It also had a very interesting selection of paintings (one might even say unusual), including this one, which I had never seen before:

Landscape with Couple Walking and Crescent Moon, 1890.


When I saw this, I had an unusual reaction: I felt this couple walking was Vincent and I.  Vincent often gave male figures in his paintings red hair or yellow straw hats or various other signs that they are, in fact, him… but this woman wearing such a distinct, yellow dress reminded me of my dress. The woman has one hand in the air like she is expressing something forcefully, and yeah… that could be me. There was also a crescent moon just the other night, which I pointed out to the friends I was with at the moment. Few people living in the city take notice of the moon.

Now, I don’t normally go around trying to put myself in Vincent’s paintings. My instinct tells me that this figure represents Vincent’s “great friend sister Epiphane” from the asylum at Saint-Remy, where this was painted. She would walk with him, allowing him to paint far from the asylum. She understood him. This painting was also done in May of 1890, shortly before Vincent left for Auvers-sur-Oise – perhaps it was made to remember her.

This past week I’ve been thinking a lot about spirituality… What does it mean that I believe Vincent is with me? That he is guiding me and taking care of me and this project? What do I mean when I off-handedly suggest that perhaps  I knew him personally in a past life? Do I believe in reincarnation? If so — who is Vincent now? And do I really believe that in some way, it is me in this painting?

I speak about my own spirituality here because Vincent has so altered how I feel about these things. It is a powerful sensation when coincidences pile up beyond the reach of logic, and that has been the result of my bringing Vincent into my life in every way. Karma is the easiest way for me to make sense of it — I am throwing all of my energy into rescuing a soul from his own myth. I believe I get certain things back. Energies. Friendships. Beauty.

Or perhaps it is seeing with his eyes, and with the perspective of the eternal that pondering time and death always gives us, that makes me open to so many daily gifts.

Have you seen the blossoming trees? This time in 1888, he was painting them, over and over…

The Pink Orchard, 1888.

Thanks to

Pink Peach Trees, 1888.

Thanks to

The White Orchard, 1888.

Thanks to

Small Pear Tree in Blossom, 1888.

Thanks to

Orchard with Apricot Trees in Blossom, 1888.

Thanks to

Orchard bordered by Cypresses, 1888.

Thanks to

Orchard with Peach Trees in Blossom, 1888.

Thanks to

Orchard, 1888.

Thanks to

These were his gifts to us from Arles, as soon as he arrived there he set about capturing their beauty. I see it as my duty to see their beauty in nature as well…

Mon, April 19 2010 » Personal, Popular Culture, Theater piece

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