Van Gogh's Prostitutes

It is easy to turn someone into a saint, especially someone as brilliant and tragic as Van Gogh.

In fact, I am guilty of doing just that. When I think about Van Gogh, I can almost see a halo above his head. I form an image of a man who nobly pursued beauty in its purest form, a man with an untainted soul who was too good for this world, a man whose unrivalled artistic sensibilities led him to an act of tragic self-harm.

But was Van Gogh a saint?

That of course is a tricky question. But it is clear from his letters that he engaged in behavior that we typically don’t associate with saints.

After falling in love with two women who did not reciprocate his feelings, Van Gogh ended up living with a low class prostitute named Sien.

The following are three sentences taken from three of Van Gogh’s letters.

Van Gogh’s Prostitutes

And I tell you frankly that in my opinion one must not hesitate to go to a prostitute occasionally if there is one you can trust and feel something for, as there really are many.

I am reading the last part of Les Misérables; the figure of Fantine, a prostitute, made a deep impression on me...

To explain my meaning more clearly, let me begin by saying that even his most beautiful weeping Magdalenes or Mater Dolorosas always simply remind me of the tears of a beautiful prostitute who has caught a venereal disease or some such small misery of human life.

So maybe Van Gogh wasn’t so saintly after all.

But then again, maybe there is nothing un-saintly about frequenting prostitutes. Indeed, some have speculated that Mary Magdalene was a prostitute.

So maybe we are all too Victorian in our moral sensibilities.

The Catholic Church requires a saint to have performed three miracles. But I don’t see why the Catholic Church should have the final word on this matter. I will therefore articulate the following thesis. I will call it the Ho-Ho-Ho thesis.

Ho-Ho-Ho Thesis: Any saint must sleep with a prostitute at least three times.

See, I am doing it again. I can ‘t help but think of Van Gogh as a saint. And I will do just about anything to continue to do so.

Kellie Lambert's Dream

In Kellie Lambert’s Dickinson period, her paintings were a surrealistic and symbolic montage. It is not, however, the surrealism of Dali. No, it is a surrealism that harkens back to Emily Dickinson.

In this painting two birds float in the foreground. One is black and dominant; the other, pink and submissive. I can’t help but suspect that the birds are related. Perhaps they are sisters. The older sister, I think, is the bolder darker one.

Above the birds to the right is a tree house. The tree that holds the tree house descends into a series of logs under which peak out two barely noticeable feet that belong to a little girl. The feet perhaps represent the buried desires that exist in their most innocent form in the tree houses of children.

Above the birds to the left is a pale window. All windows point both outside and inside. The window in this painting would seem to be pointing primarily inside – it is giving us a glimpse of someone’s inner being. Nonetheless, the window makes one feel as if one can see beyond it to the outside. It thus in a peculiar way gives both perspectives.

In the lower left corner sits a black figure. Although it is on the same level as the child’s feet, as a result of the bright color surrounding it the figure visually feels like the lowest part of the painting. Perhaps it represents death, that permanent inhabitant of all our deepest feelings.

There is much more to say about this painting. It has a peculiar geometry. The colors are almost painful. And much, much more.

Come Slowly, Eden! What is Kellie saying? I feel as if she is trying to say something. But then again, perhaps not. Dreams are like that.

It is a remarkable painting.

Anyone who wants to trade, let me know.

I Didn't Do It!

I wish I had. But I didn’t.

Over the weekend thieves stole a Van Gogh painting called ‘Poppy Flowers’ from a museum in Cairo. The painting is worth $50 million.

http://www.theimproper.com/art/?p=228

As I said, I didn’t commit the crime. But I understand the impulse. The thieves probably wanted a Van Gogh to hang on their wall, just like I do.

Although the criminals probably don’t read my blog, I want them to know that I understand their desire. And since I feel such a close bond with them, I also want them to know that I am willing to help them out.

Since they probably need some place to store the painting, if they want to trade their Van Gogh for my Kellie Lambert original, I would be more than willing hang Poppy Flowers on my wall while the manhunt subsides.

So, Van Gogh thieves – if you’re listening, and if you want to trade your Van Gogh for my awesome Kellie Lambert original, let me know.

And anyone else with a Van Gogh, (or any other cool painting), if you want to trade for my Kellie Lambert original, let me know.

A Trade, A Trade, A Mother Fucking Trade!

You’ll have to excuse my enthusiasm. But I really was beginning to worry that I had become stuck. It had been almost a month since my last trade. And I was beginning to think that the universe had turned against me. But last night, just a few days after my birthday and a few days before the end of the summer, I made a trade.

I must admit, I think the universe timed things rather well. This time of year can be a bit distressing, at least if you are a teacher. As my good friend, Susan, said a few weeks ago as we were walking along a dock to her boyfriend’s boat, every teacher, even the most eager, says a secret ‘Oh Fuck!’ as the school year approaches. So let me be the first to thank the universe for providing a very pleasant surprise before my ‘Oh Fuck!’ begins. And let me thank as well someone who has chosen to remain anonymous but who gave me a beautiful painting by an intriguing artist named Kellie Lambert.

I don’t know much about Kellie Lambert. In fact, I know hardly anything at all. So let me just make some stuff up.

Some have speculated that Kellie Lambert was a renegade. Some claim to see dark inner struggles in her work. Others dismiss her as an insignificant attention seeker. Whatever one thinks about her, however, her art has without a doubt made its mark in local art circles in the United States. Artists ranging from Smith to Birscht have all admitted their tremendous debt to her artistic vision, a vision that culminated in a handful of stunning paintings from what is now called her ‘Dickinson Period’.

The painting I now have belongs, believe it or not, to Kellie Lambert’s Dickinson Period.

I will do my best in the next post to describe my feelings about the painting. Until then, if anyone wants to trade for this amazing Kelie Lambert original, let me know.

Van Gogh's Funeral

Ok. I admit. I’m becoming gloomy. I think the universe has abandoned me. I have had no offers to trade.

Because misery loves company, I looked at a letter written by Emile Bernard, an artist who attended Van Gogh’s funeral. It is a magnificent letter, though of course a painfully sad one.

It too paints a portrait of Van Gogh.

He finally died on Monday evening, still smoking his pipe which he refused to let go of, explaining that his suicide had been absolutely deliberate and that he had done it in complete lucidity.

On the walls of the room where his body was laid out all his last canvases were hung making a sort of halo for him and the brilliance of the genius that radiated from them made this death even more painful for us artists who were there.

We climbed the hill outside Auvers talking about him, about the daring impulse he had given to art, of the great projects he was always thinking about, and of the good he had done to all of us.

Anyone would have started crying at that moment…the day was too much made for him for one not to imagine that he was still alive and enjoying it

He was, Gachet said, an honest man and a great artist who had only two aims: humanity and art.


Even Van Gogh’s funeral, it would seem, was beautiful.

A Request, (round two)

I wish I had good news. But except for a distant lead that might come to fruition in a few weeks, I haven’t had any luck trading for a painting.

I have been feeling a bit down about the matter and have been trying to figure out how to generate more leads. And it did occur to me that I could ask the universe again. But then I began to worry that asking again might be a bit pushy. And maybe the universe doesn’t like pushy. But then I though -- fuck it! If I’m going to get a Van Gogh, I better be at least a little pushy. And besides, the universe may appreciate persistence.

So, universe god damn it!

I want to trade my Melanie Bamberg triptych for a painting.
I want to trade my Melanie Bamberg triptych for a painting.
I want to trade my Melanie Bamberg triptych for a painting.

If anyone has any leads, let me know.

News and More News

News Flash 1: Did you hear? A seventeen year old just traded from a cell phone to a Porsche.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2010/07/20/teen-trades-cell-phone-fo_n_653018.html

I must admit – when I first heard about this story, I became quite dispirited. I thought that surely the novelty of trading up will now have worn off and so no one will want to trade with me.

But I now think that my reaction was irrational. This latest trading up might improve my chances. Why? Because the fact that a second person has traded up so spectacularly suggests that red paper clip guy’s trading up wasn’t a fluke. One person doing something very surprising might always be a fluke. Two people doing something surprising, however, suggests that the event wasn’t a fluke. And non-flukes are generally not as hard to reproduce as flukes.

But the latest trading-up story has made me scratch my head a bit. When the red paper clip guy traded, people may have been motivated to participate just for novelty’s sake. But this latest story simply involves a kid bartering over Craigslist for items of increasing value. So novelty doesn’t seem to have anything to do with it. Instead, what seems to be at play is irrationality. Over the course of fourteen trades, the collective group that traded with the kid lost close to a Porsche in value. So somewhere in the whole process some people acted irrationally.

So here's a question: Why would people act so irrationally?

And here's an answer: Because people are predictably irrational.

Indeed, a whole school of economics has sprung up recently that studies predictable irrationality. Dan Ariely, an economist at Duke, wrote a great book about it called Predictably Irrational. I highly recommend it.

All this has made me formulate a thesis, which I shall call the Irrationality Thesis (IT):

IT: Predictably irrational desires provide the fuel for trading up.

If IT is true, I should be feeling quite optimistic right now. Since art is by its very nature irrational, I may be working with jet fuel.

News Flash # 2

My attempt to make another trade fell through. I didn’t even go see the painting.

I was quite dispirited about this fact too. But then it occurred to me – the universe is giving me a sign. It is punishing me for my hubris.

After formulating the Ask Thesis in my last post – if you don’t remember it, the Ask Thesis asserts that asking for something is almost always a better strategy than not asking – I didn’t ask the universe for a trade. I simply assumed that the trade would happen. But the universe, I am now inclined to think, likes to be asked.

So, properly chastened, let me now announce to the universe:

I want to trade my Melanie Bamberg triptych for a really great painting.
I want to trade my Melanie Bamberg triptych for a really great painting.
I want to trade my Melanie Bamberg triptych for a really great painting.

If anyone wants to trade, let me know.