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Van Gogh, The Move to St-Remy


I returned to a house
with soggy walls, canvases ruined,
rooms flooded--the future
too exhausting to repair.

I was ready for St-Remy,
if I could paint there.
Surely the staff wouldn't hover
over me like the hooligans
in the streets here.

I couldn't stand the thought
of living alone
or of putting to risk
either myself or others.
Hadn't I believed
everyone was out to poison me?

No, I needed the calm
of an asylum--as long as painting
could remain a part
of my recovery. I must never
face again the horror
of being shackled to an iron bed,
hiding under my blanket
--an animal shuddering
in its trap.

 
Hi Bob,


stanza break after "repair"


your poem prompts me to respond w/ these lines -

I, like my brother, Van Gogh

Sanctuary & art
keep us right

the Vision freed from the frame




Michael (MV)

 
 
 
 

Thx, Michael... will adjust the break

I have read this Bob Bradshaw,but I need to know more before I can say something.

S

Difficult subject Bob. He was so complex and fragile.

He painted Starry Night from his window because they would not allow jim outside. Stark contrast to the expectation he held. They say he would eat paint if left unattended

Nicely done Bob. As others have said, such a complex figure, a major undertaking.

Dale, many thanks

Kenneth—yeh, Vincent liked to chew on the ends of his brushes... he also once drank terpentine but a friend intervened

Nailed it. One of my IBPC picks