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Posts tagged van gogh

Young.




I spent an hour today intellecualizing absolutely normal things. Kylee and I began to discuss and define “fun”: what is Fun? what is fun? is there a difference between fun and enjoyment? (yes: so what, then?) is there fun in the Bible? is transcendence Biblical?

Oh, it wasn’t what we’d call fun, but it was highly enjoyable. I talked for illustration about dinners and lakes and escapades, all the little moments of Fun from the last year or so that I had brandished in joy. I was talking talking talking so fast and so happy, and I said, but know, I have fun rarely and when I do it’s sometimes just me, or it’s just me who will be so rapturous. My friends tell me that nobody does things so wholly as I.

That’s fine with me, being alone in that — though oh, I want all of you “to feel the stars and the infinite high and clear above you!”1 If it’s just me who does this, though, I still want to never lose it, for very little is ever better.

We talked about fun Biblically and I said, oh, but I think it is!, with all Jesus’ feasts and celebrations and joy. And what could possibly be less fun than forty years in the desert? Those are times from which we’re freed. She asked about fun and transcendence, and I said nothing does feel more God-ly. These are the times I am gladdest, most full of belief.

We haven’t had much fun in Italy so far. It’s hard to, working all the time time time and apart from our peoples. We’ve had scraps or snatches, though. Kylee and I identified some of those: her, chasing sheep through an olive grove, and me, running towards the Coliseum at night. We like our delirious late-nights and watching Christine leap from bed to bed, smashing mosquitos swollen with our own blood all over our walls. There has been some fun and yes, we will find and make more. Fun is love, joy, worship. What else is summer — life — for?

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Almost enchanted.

Speaking about LSD:

You get hints of this, you see the world in this transfigured way now and then—not to the same pitch of intensity, but something of the kind. It does help you to look at the world in a new way. And you come to understand very clearly the way that certain specially gifted people have seen the world. You are actually introduced into the kind of world that Van Gogh lived in, or the kind of world that Blake lived in.
Aldous Huxley’s Paris Review interview

I wonder how Huxley thought van Gogh saw things. I identify with his kind of sight.

P.S. No way — more van Gogh on the blog’s second week sort-of birthday. Mysterious.

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No real infidels.

Long ago, Facebook had a little space for a quip below your profile picture. I had a quotation from an August 1888 letter by Vincent van Gogh. 124 years ago, maybe exactly!

It seems a decent way to inaugurate a blog that will be letter-like, highly attributional, and sometimes sentimental, though hopefully more truthful than not:

If you are well you must be able to to live on a bit of bread while you are working all day, and have enough strength to smoke and drink your whack at night, that’s a necessary part of the thing. And all the same to feel the stars and the infinite high and clear above you. Then life is after all almost enchanted. Oh! those who don’t believe in this sun here are real infidels.
The Letters of Vincent van Gogh, ed. Mark Roskill

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