We were fortunate enough to see the final showing last night, literally the very last. Today, the museum begins the intense ordeal of shipping all the invaluable paintings to the various lenders. Millions, maybe billions, of dollars in freight! I have to admit, as I walked through, I realized I’m not particularly fond of his many styles, though I am impressed. I was impressed by his passion, the short life as a painter, the sheer amount of work-every thick and thin brush stroke. Incredible! 910 paintings in ten years. He sold two, and died poor. It’s a travesty and I’m not sure our postmortem admiration and valuation is flattery of the highest sort, or pure offense. The spectacle was quite the tribute on the part of the museum, bringing in somewhere between 250,000-300,000 viewers. Denver still surprises me with its cowboy boot culture and what we manage to pull off.
Anyway, here’s to art in her myriad forms and appreciators. I am going to try painting this month. The canvas and material are provided. Even wine, to file the inner critic’s sharp edge down to a soft bevel. I’m going to start with a tree. Maybe even try pointillism as my tribute to Van Gogh and his contemporaries. Overall I am impressed at how he managed to paint such glorious sun and flowers despite the overwhelming trauma and trials of his life. Let that be a lesson to me! Thank you Van Gogh!