Can it be possible to feel down, depressed, when one is finally realizing so many dreams, when one is doing Great Things, by one’s own definition? Oh, yes. (I am resisting bemoaning the position of an artist – misunderstood, lonely, no money, blah blah blah!)

I just try to play some good music, and remind myself that there’s no other path now anyway. From here, it leads straight to Vincent.

I suppose part of my feeling down has to do with my research this past week of the last 70 days or so of Vincent’s life. I was looking in his letters for an answer to a particular question, but it also required me to face The End. And as I found out at his grave in Auvers-sur-Oise, it’s not easy for me to think about his death for an extended period of time. I have no doubt his death was his release, but I can’t help wishing it had been different.

I never mentioned this before, but I took a little rock from the field where Vincent is supposed to have shot himself. I had to bring something home with me, right? It’s with me everyday, in my coin purse. I like that.

I like having a little something. I took that and the strand of wheat that’s on my business card.

In the news of things I’ve accomplished (let’s be happy!), I did indeed do my Twitter Performance this past Saturday as planned, and in case you missed it, I recommend clicking here. You have to read from the bottom up, cause that’s how Twitter rolls, and click for “more” twice to start from the beginning of the conversation. Here is the beginning, to spark your curiousity (read from the bottom up!). It started with his daily quote:

So that was pretty awesome. First time I’ve ever done anything like that, and I think it does give the outsider a good taste for what the final performance will be like. At least in Twitter terms. :)

Also — this week is CALLBACKS. Which means that the next time I post here, I may very well have my cast set. Isn’t that just CRAZY!? Despite my perhaps sullen mood, I must admit I am extremely excited to get to know these actors who are interested in the project, and see what they can do. It will also be the first time I will hear my words aloud. And that’s pretty sweet.

So onward and upward. In the meantime, here’s a pretty cool video a friend of the project sent me. I think it gives you a good idea of what Vincent really looked like…

love!

Van Gogh from Philip Scott Johnson on Vimeo.

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 TVeramendi@gmail.com 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 vangoghletters.org

Thanks to vangoghletters.org

Thanks to vangoghletters.org

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?)

Onwards!