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I often find it perplexing on why so many quickly dismiss the brilliance of Van Gogh. Labeling him as a mad man, and not taking note of how trapped he was in his own brilliance. I have recently started reading through several of his letters to his brother Theo. My impression is he is like many artist (or so I assume). I know in of myself I seem to trapped by art. She is my mistress and this will never change, no matter what.

We as artist tend to see the world in minute detail. I think that we tend to not recognize that we see things differently then the general public. Colors are more vivid. Lighting is brighter. Shadows fall deeper. Things that the average citizen simply cannot see at all are shown clear as day to our eyes. And my theory is this is why so many artists have bout of depression. We see how beautiful the world can be, and have extreme emotions about how the rest of the world should.

I often find these things to be true. To not be able to express my thoughts clearly and views smoothly. I am often accompanied by look of perplexed eyes and puzzled smirks. So quickly we are dismissed as crazy or just merely an idiot because our ideals do not fall in line. Or more correctly that our thoughts and emotions are brought outside and not bottled away like so many.

"So what do you want? Does what happens inside show on the outside? There is such a great fire in one's soul, and yet nobody ever comes to warm themselves there, and passerby see nothing but a little smoke coming from the top of the chimney, and go on their way."

"So then, what to do? Stoke up that fire inside, have salt in yourself, wait patiently, yet with how much impatience, wait for the hour, when someone might want to come and sit down by it and stay there, how should I know?"

As an artist I can so relate to the thoughts of van Gogh. Should I wait idly by? Wait for some passerby to take notice and try to warm themselves by the fire which is my heart and soul? I'd rather scream my passions in vivid display for the world to see and not be so caged.

I myself have seen the aftermath of my expression and my passions such as Van Gogh. Being left because I have devoted myself to something other than the touch of another.

"Art is jealous and demands all our time and all our strength, and then when dedicate these to it, it leaves rather a bitter taste to be taken for some kind of impractical person and I don't know what else Well, we just have to try and battle on."

So many times I have been spoke of by others as being impractical and without common sense. For me I have no clue what these people mean by this, and their lack of explanations for such statements are both irritating and puzzling to me provoking anger longing for some kind of explanation to what they mean. But I am left saddened by these thoughts. And I am left to feel I am truly alone in my journeys. But somehow I know there are others out there are just looking for answers to the questions of the universe and left frustrated at no resolve.

"I want to make drawings that touch will touch people. Either in a figure, or in a landscape, I would like to express, not something sentimentally melancholy, but sincere sorrow."

A entrapment of us all that are of heart in soul?

So was dear Vincent so insane? Or was it that he was so enraged at this self involved world that he had to go to the length of cutting his ear off in sacrifice in that the world would listen? For all I know I am still telling the world of the fire that burns within me, and all I know is that the world is still not listening to not a word.

Learn more about this author, Michael Sauve.
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