Van Gogh and the Colors of the Night
I don’t know about other people, but I have a not-so-secret spot that I go to whenever the bullshit in life drives me crazy. I go and stand in front of Vincent Van Gogh’s classic The Starry Night at MoMA (which is an otherwise boring museum unworthy of the $20 admission fee).
It is always crowded around this painting, of course, but I don’t get distracted. As I stand there each time, I can’t help but see the love and passion van Gogh had for his art and, most importantly, for the world in which he lived… no matter how little the world loved him back.
MoMA had a special exhibit a while back called “Van Gogh and the Colors of Night”. As is the case with anything van Gogh these days, the exhibit was packed. Not only was a separate ticket needed just for the exhibit, timed entrances were required. We got there right when MoMA opened, at 9am, and had to wait until 1 p.m. to be allowed into the exhibit.
Watching the hordes of people of all ages and genders and colors and backgrounds waiting there, I wished that somehow van Gogh could see what I saw.
Vincent, do you know how much you are loved today? Do you know that people call you a genius? Do you know that your paintings are being sold for tens of millions of dollars? Do you know that we line up for hours to admire and appreciate your work? Do you know that you inspired and are still inspiring generations of artists who’ve come after you? Do you know that you are not a failure?
You will never know.
