under skies that sometimes shine like cut sapphires or turquoise? under the constantly pouring powerful stream of all conceivable shades of light in the atmosphere burning with flames, an alarming and alarming display of a strange nature, at the same time realistic and at the same time almost supernatural, where everything is excessive, everything living and inanimate shadows and light forms and colors declare themselves unstoppable and violently and the sound of their song, piercing and frantic, fills the space, and this nature is twisted, distorted, when the form

becomes a nightmare the color of the flame, the light, the big fire life is a mad fever. this is what reflects our how far or not we are from the great great traditions of painting, there has never been an artist whose art would have been so directly addressed. to feelings from the indefinable aroma of his sincerity. flesh and matter his picture this fearless true artist vincent van gogh surpasses others

so much good, but actually, i don't know. and i am a serviceman, i was a soldier, and the soldiers are all crazy , no, the artist is simple soldiers are not crazy. where are you served in a colony far away from here is called a tankin? during the war, many many underground passages were dug there. and founded one tankinskaya girl, she was born in this and for 12 years the girl lived without daylight for 12 years,

lord can you imagine such a painter? never sees the sun. even its existence has no concept no concept. shut up already. shut your mouth shut up. what are you writing?

look at me. please, why don't you move, still don't move. i ask you not to move, i don’t move

, what do you want, i want sketch you a portrait. why me i'll pay you don't be afraid, okay? you can lay down here. on the ground, right? right here, right here. i'd like to draw you like this, like when your head is resting on your arm, right? that's it, that's it, that's good. wait not there, i'm heading right? what are you

doing? that's enough, that's it, don't touch me. that's how it hurts me, i don't know you.

my dear vincent, i had the opportunity to see your work after our parting first at your brother's house, and then at the salon exhibition independent, it is the latter that makes it possible to truly appreciate your paintings, either due to the fact that they are located next to each other, or thanks to neighboring paintings. i want to sincerely congratulate you. many artists consider your work at this exhibition to be the best of those who paint nature. you are the only thinking artist there. i talked about it with your brother one of the pictures. i'd like to pick up and exchange for one of your choice. i did not dare to write to you for a long time, knowing that you survived a protracted crisis, so please do not answer me yet. if you don’t get stronger, let’s hope that with the advent of heat, your strength will quickly recover and you will

recover, winter has always been a dangerous time. for you, only your gene remains.

not here there. there, follow me.

here it is thank you help me to remove it. please do you understand why you are here? talk

to you to make me feel better. or because i left the clinic. what happened on the road to orel i don't remember. you left the clinic. i wanted to get to arles. residents of arles, signed a petition against you returning there, i know you ever molested children there is not once in my life. you cut off your ear and gave it to prostitutes, it's true. yes it is, but gabi is not a prostitute. why did you do it? i wanted her to give it to my friend. and she passed on. i dont know.

don't you find a strange offering? do you have temper tantrums? i leave the house and look at a blade of grass or a branch of a fig tree to calm myself. it turns out, right? for me beauty is nature nature god i saw you in the garden you were painting. they say you call yourself an artist. yes, i'm an artist. why do you think so? what do you have special gift, right? where does it come from according to you? you

can say that the lord gave it to you. yes, i can, this is the only yegor to me. do you call it a painting? yes of course, answer me frankly. why do you call yourself an artist, because i draw i love to draw i must draw. for as long as i can remember i have always been an artist. from birth yes i am sure i am not given to do anything else. trust me i tried. so the lord has given

you a talent to draw this. what don't you see? look carefully, please. i don't mean to offend you at all, but don't you see this picture? how to say unpleasantly ugly did the lord give me a talent to draw something ugly. true, sometimes i feel that i am far from this world. does anyone buy your work? no, that is, you are poor, yes, very poor.

what are you living on? my brother theo pays for my hospital stay, but he's not rich either . it turns out that the lord gave you a talent to doom you to a miserable existence. i never thought about it that way. how did you think about it? sometimes i think that maybe he is. well, maybe he chose the wrong time. what do you mean, maybe my gift is an artist and is intended for people who have not yet been born? perhaps life is for sowing what you sow, so shall you reap. my canvases

are woven from my virtues and vices so you think the lord could be wrong. i think of myself as a wanderer exiled on this earth, jesus said turn your heart away from what is visible and turn to what is not visible. true, but how jesus was also unknown to anyone during his lifetime. how do you know? my father was a religion pastor surrounded me all my life. a pastor, really before i realized i was an artist. i seriously put up with devoting myself to the church and prepared for it. that's how you

know the gospel. and not only the gospel, if you like, i can tell you that jesus was only known 30-40 years after his death. and while he was alive, no one talked about him, not even a letter from a roman centurion in rome to his wife, in which it would be said that a man named yeshua was crucified in jerusalem with other criminals. not a word, not a half a word. i'm here for one purpose determine if you are healthy to leave the clinic. it reminds me of jesus on the terrace. on which terrace, where he spoke with pilate, that one is quite obvious, if you believe what was written, he had no intention of crucifying him; this was demanded by the

crowd, but we will leave theoretical discussions until another time. no, pilate was not going to execute jesus at any word. christ reproved him so it is already necessary to be careful in what i say. i can understand you. do you know you can come to me? let's discuss if you want your idea. and right now, go to dr. ray, he will take you home. i can go. we have done everything possible for you. i hope i'm ready. i hope so too.

i ask you to return these things, madam, with my wife they were good friends to me, of course, pass them on to this book and thank them.

hello hello it's very important that you pass this on to madam wife from an artist named vincent van gogh he apologizes for the delay. a ledger and two empty boxes from under the mass

all my work here you have not sold anything. bye no, but aria wrote an excellent article his review is

far from the truth. i don't deserve any of what he said deserve his article will help. it doesn't matter to me at all what other people think of me, but to me. your opinion is not indifferent. answer, i want to know the truth, i am a good artist. not just a good winx, you are a great artist. are you sure why ngat you my brother? what are you trying to persuade me? i wouldn't do it. i would never do that. people say i ca n't draw. i don't know how to paint. they say that all my paintings are ugly ugly before i care what people think people think more of me no i have no choice. if

i couldn't write, i would kill someone. i sent money for your work because he doesn't expect you to be a great artist. and i'm a businessman. i am a businessman, after all. so you write the rest write, the rest is a letter. i know, and he wrote to you. you saw him, he's gone, the letter is here. yes, he's fucked up, i don't know, i'm in the city now. i've got to go somewhere, it's too hard for me here. i am i don't want to see anyone. i can't stay here and after that it only got worse. anywhere further, i can't stay. this is not my place here. now the wonderful guests are familiar with the local doctor. he loves

the tummy knows your work. i may be able to help you, i'm ready to go there, i have to leave, i'll arrange everything. you can talk, yes, just try not to move. why are you writing? i write. as a matter of fact, not to think. something like meditation. when i write, i stop thinking about what exactly. about everything. instead i feel like

part of what is inside and outside of me. i wanted to share with others everything that i myself am. i see. share i believed that the artist. must teach. how to perceive the world, but stopped thinking about it. now i reflect on my relationship with eternity. what do you call eternity? what is coming. i guess you mean to say that your gift of humanity is in your picture? and if not? what

's the use of an artist? you are happy when you write mostly when everything works out. you are sometimes so sad that you want to cry. often comes from a lot to give up before you create a successful picture. i find pleasure in sorrow. this feeling is much stronger than joy. i am convinced. an angel behind the back of someone who is sad, healing comes to us through illness. in such could them. the picture comes to light. are you sure about this? the very thought of

recovery is hateful to me. in that case, you don't have to laugh, stop smiling, please, please. i'm sorry, it's all right. sometimes they think i'm crazy. but art needs a modicum of madness, you are not mad. it's good when the doctor is your friend. i feel pain in belly. he was dressed like a buffalo hunter.

one of them wasn't so bad. please don't tell our parents.