Tuesday, February 1, 2011
a very early childhood memory was of being at the toronto ontario art gallery in the early 1950's and leaning my chin on the red velvet barrier cord and looking at van gogh's sunflowers. our childhood home had framed van gogh prints above the couch - the chair with the pipe on it, his bedroom with the awkward bed, the over heated cafe at night. when i was 15, this book, van gogh's letter to his brother theo, was virtually my bible. it was my guide to becoming an artist. van gogh's letters taught me how to see colour. they taught me how to live passionately and with dedication. at 15, van gogh became my jesus. my buddha.
sunday evening, flicking through the channels for something to watch on tv as i knit, i came upon minelli's "lust for life" with kirk douglas and anthony quinn. i don't think i had ever seen it before. it was wonderfully powerful in a kitchy way. it was filmed on location. they rebuilt the yellow house in arles. it reminded me of who i used to be...