The Journal of Van Gogh

742 Words3 Pages
The Journal of Vincent Van Gogh July 24, 1890~ As I work on this painting of the wheat fields, sadness overcomes me. I worry that Theo, my loving brother, and his family also suffers sadness because of me. Theo's condition seems to be worsening and I fear for his health. I have gone back to work on my canvases, and have given them my undivided attention. My sickness has taken so much of my life away from me that I suddenly have tried to make the time come back. How I long for its return, when I was able to work for hours, and paint to my hearts content. Maybe the crows will bring impending doom to me, as I sit to finish this painting. July 25, 1890~ Dr. Gachet has told me that I should throw myself into my works, to keep my mind off other things. My life is threatened by this sickness that I must surrender to. It is only odd, that my paintings come alive with frenzy in my fits of mad I feel creative and full of energetic possibilities. My brushes jump across the canvas as I paint the scenery of the world around me. I think of my friend Gauguin, and how my sickness made me mad in his presence. How must he think of me, when I tried to hurt him in my madness? How could I have thought to bring so much hate upon him and myself? And then I think of my madness and that thought of cutting my ear. Gauguin and I are a very different, with varied styles, but in the end Gauguin is a powerful and strongly creative man, one that I sincerely call my friend. I think back to the times of St. Remy and of Arles. There are memories of the little yellow house that I had bought and shared with Gauguin, and then to St. Remy and my fellow patients, these were times of sorrow and great joy. I think of times in Paris, where I was able to meet with Toulouse-Lautrec, Gauguin, Seurat, and other painters. My works were influenced by these painters. Their use of bright colors and their choice of subject matter altered my direction his. Thought I tried to use light and brightness, depression came to weight down on me. My attempts to work among the Parisian art community were in vain and I struggled to keep my sanity.
Open Document