Why do people always regard Van Gogh as an unreasonable weirdo?

Reflections on Van Gogh's Biography Sunflower in the Wheat Field

He was born. He paints. He is dead. The wheat field was golden, and a flock of crows screamed across the sky.

Baudelaire

Evangelist Vincent? With the help of God, Van Gogh set foot on Borina Day, a land deeply branded with the curse of "Black Egypt". His family is very rich. Although he doesn't have gorgeous appearance and extraordinary wisdom, he can't be called the rich class. With reddish-brown hair, cloudy eyes, towering cheekbones and full forehead, compared with the short miner with black particles in his sweat, he will always be an alien. Even though he spent all his money and worked hard for the local suffering miners, his priesthood did not bring much comfort to the suffering Borina Day. This small town in the shadow of capital has nothing to do with Protestant ethics and there is no reincarnation of saints.

The missionary Van Gogh suddenly realized, "Without God, it's as simple as that. There is only chaos-tragic, painful, cruel, inexplicable and endless chaos. " God leaves here, and self rises slowly. So there was 188 1 the famous miners return. Blurred face, rickety back, brush strokes penetrate the back of the paper, and the characters will walk out of the picture. According to his own statement, his paintings emphasize action, even in the figure paintings of Rembrandt, Titian and Velaskaibang.

In the hot sun of Al, Vincent attached this sentence to his brother Theo's letter: "Everything I created for nature is chestnuts, which were taken out of the fire. Ah, those who don't believe in the sun are those who have turned their backs on God. " The painter Van Gogh began to look for his own sun. "Without the sun, there would be no painting." The intersection and disagreement with Gauguin, Cezanne, Lautrec and Seurat in the cold pub in Paris almost ruined Van Gogh's own creation. After the sudden dream of "Coloni", Van Gogh finally went to Al to find his own "sun" with his rediscovered self.

Cezanne's apples, Seurat's meticulous coloring in Sunday Afternoon on Big Bowl Island, Lautrec's ghostly grasp of the characters' demeanor in Miss Toilet, Gauguin's Wang Yang's wanton colors and amazing imagination. From the perspective of art history alone, no one dares to despise the greatness of these names. But there is only one artist, Van Gogh. He is not a copy of any of the above names. He belongs to the field and the sun. He is a sunflower.

It's only been 20 years since I decided to become a priest, until I listened to my inner demands and devoted myself to art. Even counting his uncivilized youth born for painting, Van Gogh's lifeline is only over 37 years old.

He is not tired of life, and even has a great desire for life. For this desire, he can burn his skin with candles, cut off his ears with razors, and even abandon his rich family and stick to painting under extremely difficult material conditions.

In the eyes of others, he will always be a madman, but what he is paranoid and most eager for in his life journey is to be understood and loved. The political and economic status of the Van Gogh family does not need much ink in the book, and there are not a few people related to art in the family. However, the only person who can really understand Vincent is his brother Theo.

Unfortunately, this understanding is more based on the childhood memories of Leswick's The Old Mill than on artistic understanding and singing. Art is the whole life of Van Gogh. When Dr. Gasser praised Vincent's works endlessly, his artistic enthusiasm had come to an end. There is nothing to express anymore. Art is Vincent's life. When art is over, life is over. Compared with Sui Qing's so-called "for the life of books", Vincent's "for the life of art" is more appropriate. His real life began with painting and ended with painting. When painting could not tell his farewell to life, he "raised his head, turned his back to the sky, pressed the revolver gun to his abdomen and pulled the trigger." Owen? Si Tong wrote here: "He fell down, buried his face in the fertile and pungent soil in the field, and returned to the embrace of Mother Earth like quickly restored soil."

Until his death, his life was still associated with painting and the sun.

It's really hard to guess Van Gogh's heart with normal people. As Maslow's hierarchy of needs theory involves, Van Gogh's life skips daily chores and points to the top-level "self-realization" needs. Because of this, he was deeply involved in endless debts and had to live in a hurry with Theo's monthly supplies. Years of hunger and embarrassment hurt his stomach, his gums became inflamed and his hair fell off. He comforted himself in St Remy's sanatorium, and it was still Delacroix's confession: "I learned to draw when my head was bald and I was dying."

No wonder the residents of Al, who are crazy to outsiders, turn Van Gogh, who goes out to paint in bad weather every day, into a "fever"-a madman with red hair. The difference between the two kinds of craziness is that the residents of Al suffered from physical diseases in the scorching sun and the strong wind, and Van Gogh's nature brought out the best of himself in Al's rotten yellow, purple and green.

The introverted self-discipline of "taking Tao as the aim, relying on morality, putting people first and swimming in art" was shattered by Van Gogh's life. Physical and material pain cannot knock down Van Gogh's pursuit of truth and profundity. Painting became the only sustenance of his huge and hard-to-vent vitality, so he wrote this self-report: "When I paint the sun, I hope that people will feel that it is rotating at an amazing speed and is emitting powerful fluctuations in light and heat." When I draw a wheat field, I want people to feel that the atoms inside the wheat grain are working hard towards final maturity and flowering. When I draw an apple tree, I hope people can feel that the juice in the apple is spreading the apple skin, and the seeds in the core are trying to bear their own fruit. "Face Van Gogh's indelible colors and paints, and occasionally imagine his restlessness and burning when painting. Maybe you will feel sorry for such a life.

Van Gogh longed to be loved. His feelings have been stuck in an untraceable bond. When I was young, my admiration and entanglement for Ursula came from pure self-centeredness. I didn't allow myself to fail, but deceived myself and made some unnecessary persistence. After meeting Kay, Van Gogh himself thought that his past feelings for ursula were insignificant.

The enthusiasm for Kay has put aside all ethics and rules, and is more based on the thunder and fire of closeness and affection. After hearing the response of "never, never", Vincent still firmly believes that time can change this answer.

Vincent in these two relationships is too self-righteous, but persistence and agitation can at least win some appreciation. The affection for Christine is more out of mutual support. After the situation changes, feelings without foundation will naturally go away. Van Gogh said something to Christine that others thought was selfish: "I want to experience the troubles and joys of family life, so that I can draw works about family life with my own personal experience." In fact, for Van Gogh, this meaning is very simple, painting is everything.

Margot loved Van Gogh deeply and appeared in his life as a quiet bystander. Van Gogh also tried to love her, but when it came to the marriage of two families, realistic entanglements made Van Gogh retreat quickly and devoted himself to painting and exile. As for the last Maya, it is more what Van Gogh himself said in a morbid dream.

In his love life, Van Gogh was just an ordinary person, and selfishness and cowardice were everywhere. He longs for true love, but he always falls into the dilemma of nowhere to vent and nowhere to ask for it. Surging desire | Hope seems to hit a sponge, and there is neither an urgent response nor a frightening rebound. It is empty, stimulating Van Gogh's fragile and sensitive nerves like needles.

Van Gogh's dilemma of normal communication was magnified. For most people's lifestyles, Van Gogh had the same needs, but lacked the corresponding understanding. Whether it is a lover or a relative, not being understood is Van Gogh's greatest sorrow. This sad loneliness is transmitted to painting and becomes an unspeakable source of strength. Or, cruelly speaking, the failure of understanding and communication contributed to the eternal Van Gogh in painting.

As Croce said, the essence of art is intuition. Throughout his life, Van Gogh used painting to express his innermost thoughts. The idea appealed to intuition, but it was answered. When he turned the setbacks in his life into his inner desire, he had a deep sense of loneliness and vitality in his paintings. Artists' works are works of individuality, but the loneliness of artists is the loneliness of groups.

Seurat eventually died of overwork at the age of 32; Cezanne lived in seclusion and used painting to talk or hide loneliness; Gauguin eventually became a model of the Moon and Sixpence to alert the world. Lautreck never got rid of the inferiority and irritability caused by physical disability in his life. No one has integrated into social ethics, but has become a star engraved on the awning of art history. John? Leiward described them like this: "These are unfortunate geniuses, because their art was destroyed as soon as it was born;" These are lucky people, because they have bred immortal flowers of art with their own pain. "

Today, without fourteen sunflowers in a vase, you can't mention Van Gogh. Dry, strong, true and profound. It's a self-portrait rather than a self-portrait. If people are compared to a wheat field, the sun is warm and the rain is moist, but Van Gogh is like a sunflower in a wheat field, born in the sun and decayed when it meets water. There is no reason to laugh at the madness and hysteria of ear-cutting, because his life cannot be understood, his genius cannot be understood, and his life will not be truly understood until a hundred years later. In this artistic life, he has been facing the sun, like a sunflower. In the days without the sun, the sunflower is the sun in the wheat field.

An interesting fact is that one hundred years later in China, a poet who called Van Gogh "the thin brother" wrote this poem:

In fact, one of your eyes can light up the whole world.

But you must use the third eye, Al's sun.

Burn the starry sky into a raging river

Burn this land into ruins.

Raise your yellow convulsive hand, sunflower.

Invite all those who take chestnuts from the fire.

Stop painting the olive garden of Christ.

Draw olive harvest if you want.

Draw the fire of violence

Not the old man in the sky.

Wash away life

Brother with red hair, after drinking absinthe.

Start the ignition.

Shaoba

At the age of 25, he put his head on the cold railing. He was only two years younger than his "skinny brother" when he committed suicide. His name is Cha Haisheng, also known as Haizi.

For a real artist, the day when art ends is the day when life ends.

I believe this will satisfy you. After all, it is difficult to find the painter's autobiography after reading it.