Lust for life. The movie about Van Gogh.
I haven’t watched it, but there’s a scene I have gone back to hundreds of times.
Kirk Douglas, Anthony Quinn, an argument, and a line to reflect on.
The exact conversation between Gauguin and Vincent probably never took place,
but who cares.
In less than one minute, Van Gogh delivers a marvelous speech about what painting should be.
Human spirit.
No control.
Emotion.
Feel.
As the tension escalates, Paul outrageously yells,
You paint too fast
To what Vincent responds a sentence that has been echoing inside of me for years,
You watch too fast.
I guess we do.
Too fast, all too fast.
Even with my own work.
I usually take pictures of the process of my paintings. I also tear up a great part of my work.
Sometimes I look back at a photograph I took of a painting I made just a minute before I destroyed it and I like what I see.
It thrills me. Why did I kill it?
I feel stupid.
Complexity usually takes time to be understood.
Superficial is effortless. Profound is demanding.
Too fast, always too fast.
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