Vincent Van Gogh

Vincent Van Gogh(1853 — 1890) je bio holandski postimpresinistički slikar. Glavni deo svog života je proveo u Francuskoj. Slikao je još od malena kada se jednoga dana odlučio da će biti slikar, i od toga nije odustajao. Na samrti rečenica mu je bila: "The sadness will never end"(sr. "Tuga nikada neće prestati").

Najpoznatija dela:

• Ljudi koji jedu krompir
  
• Suncokreti
  
• Žitno polje i čempresi
  
• Zvezdana noć
  
• Crveni vinograd
  
• Noćni kafe
  
• Umetnikova spavaća soba u Arlu
  
• Autoportret
  
• Portret doktora Gašea
  

Potpis Van Gogha:



Preuzeto sa: Wikipedia, Blog "At or with me"

Ovo su neke najosnovnije informacije, želim da ovde svi mi zajedno sakupljamo što više informacija o Van Gogu. Ovde ga svakako možemo komentarisati itd.

Ja mislim da se na neki način saosećam sa njim i njegovim delima. Obožavam ga. Žao mi je što više nije sa nama.

Aww. i ja ga volim. Čitao sam njegova pisma a i njegovu biografiju koju je napisao Irving Stone. Ovo je jedan detalj iz njegovog pisma svojem bratu :

Vincent Van Gogh ::

In the springtime a bird in a cage knows very well that there’s something he’d be good for; he feels very clearly that there’s something to be done but he can’t do it; what it is he can’t clearly remember, and he has vague ideas and says to himself, ‘the others are building their nests and making their little ones and raising the brood’, and he bangs his head against the bars of his cage. And then the cage stays there and the bird is mad with suffering. ‘Look, there’s an idler’, says another passing bird — that fellow’s a sort of man of leisure. And yet the prisoner lives and doesn’t die; nothing of what’s going on within shows outside, he’s in good health, he’s rather cheerful in the sunshine. But then comes the season of migration. A bout of melancholy — but, say the children who look after him, he’s got everything that he needs in his cage, after all — but he looks at the sky outside, heavy with storm clouds, and within himself feels a rebellion against fate. I’m in a cage, I’m in a cage, and so I lack for nothing, you fools! Me, I have everything I need!? Ah, for pity’s sake, freedom, to be a bird like other birds!
An idle man like that resembles an idle bird like that.
And it’s often impossible for men to do anything, prisoners in I don’t know what kind of horrible, horrible, very horrible cage. There is also, I know, release, belated release. A reputation ruined rightly or wrongly, poverty, inevitability of circumstances, misfortune; that creates prisoners.
You may not always be able to say what it is that confines, that immures, that seems to bury, and yet you feel I know not what bars, I know not what gates — walls.
Is all that imaginary, a fantasy? I don’t think so; and then you ask yourself, Dear God, is this for long, is this for ever, is this for eternity?
You know, what makes the prison disappear is every deep, serious attachment. To be friends, to be brothers, to love; that opens the prison through sovereign power, through a most powerful spell. But he who doesn’t have that remains in death. But where sympathy springs up again, life springs up again.

Inače se sva njegova pisma mogu naći na internetu.

Ja baš ovako i ne znam mnogo o njemu, ali mibse dopadaju njegove slike