Journal entry from European trip
"It's rained all morning. I'm sitting in this small cafe in Auvers-Sur-Oise and I'm struggling on all sorts of different levels. I'm struggling because of what I've seen this morning. The grave and wheat fields. When you see such an icon, shooting star, giant, reduced to a simple headstone and ivy slab, against some back wall in a remote countryside cemetery, you have to wonder what it's all about.
Even if you make your mark in this lifetime, what does it matter when we all return as dust?
Legacies. Is life really about legacies? What we leave behind.
Songs have been written about this man. Books espouse his tortured brilliance. Pilgrims pay homage to this spot and place small rocks on top of his headstone. We all love Vincent. Maybe at some very deep level we wish we were like him in some way. His unquenchable need to create and vibrant passion, his selfless compassion for others, his wonderfully enquiring intellect and eloquent way with words, and his ability to live life to the fullest.
These thoughts inspired "Mediocrity or Passion?"
I don't think it matters if you end up a pile of dust it's inevitable. He lived his passion, the essence of the ride, and he did it in emotional, brilliant style. What better way to look back before you sign out and say "I lived my dream!" so what if I lost and ear and my sanity in the process.
ReplyDelete...great blog by the way