More notes.
The reading begins to get tough for me because it's so similar in weird ways to my own patterns of thinking. VanGogh must have been bipolar, as I am. I'm fighting against the urge to skip ahead and read the last letter to get a gauge of the depths of the descent into madness and despair which might lie ahead just because I don't know if I can handle it.
I hear the optimism and the sheer force of will, pushing ahead and, just before age 30, striving so very hard to be true to two contradictory forces at the same time. On the one hand Van Gogh was struggling to do everything that was expected of him. He lived a good portion of his life by the expectations of others.
At cross purposes to this, however, was the drive to remain true to his own inner vision, his internal quest.
Oy. Resonates kinda deep. Especially since this afternoon was a depressed afternoon for me, when I was struggling with the question of "What am I doing wrong, and why do I struggle so very hard just to be this poor?" Egads, what a shock to settle in for some reading and find that -exact- question reflected in the pages from Van Gogh's letters to his brother Theo from 1881.
I know that I have made several different choices in my life so I'm not reading this as some kind of soothsayer's path before me, but it's still a phenomenal cautionary tale. In another time and place, I would not be far off from dear Vincent's plight. Although I have to admit that I don't obsess about painting and drawing to the same level he did.
And that's a good thing.
Still, hearing how he wore out his welcome from the painter/mentor Mauve and the fact that he used turns of phrase which I've written myself, often in letters to my own brother Tom... this continues to be a difficult read because it is so exceedingly eerie in its similarities across time and space from then to now. Perhaps it's just that I'm bipolar, or perhaps there's something to the notion of being an artist which brings this kind of mind set about. I don't know. I haven't studied the daybooks and biographies of artists yet, but I'm looking forward to those continued studies.
I just wish I could absorb it all faster, because with how similar the phraseology is and the bipolar outlook and the sheer desperation to somehow find that point at which the inner vision and the outer expectations meet in a glorious combination of economic support... and knowing as I do with the gift of hindsight that Van Gogh never finds it in his lifetime... reading this begins to get exhausting because it triggers intense sympathy from me, and I really don't want to prolong the slow spiralling descent into another man's madness. I've got to work so hard to prevent that from happening to me with my own life.
Van Gogh is definitely a bohemian ahead of the bohemian revolution. And I'm some kind of reluctant bohemian of the postmodern sort, who can point to their life and say "I work very hard to be this poor," with some kind of self-bemused ironic appreciation underlaid with the faintest stirrings of despair.
Yeah, reading on, but struggling between the urge to skim and the need to bear witness to the tortured existence of an unrecognized Master as he passed through this lifetime.
And I hear the phrase attributed to God's response when mortals cry out in suffering, "It'll all be over soon."
If I do end up skimming, forgive me, but since I'm living a modern variation on this kind of hell, I don't know if I have the heart to endure the burden of another... even one long gone.
Reading on.
Showing posts with label dear theo notes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dear theo notes. Show all posts
Saturday, January 20, 2007
Thursday, January 18, 2007
Morning, 1/18/07 Th
Watched Babylon 5 Season 3 a bit last night. Getting into the Shadow Wars, the episodes are beginning to have the intensity which made Bab5 famous, along with the plot arc which pulled upon seemingly minor setups from Season 1 and 2 which at the time appeared innocuous enough.
Interestingly enough what my brain is doing in the background while watching Bab 5 is working up a casting list for a movie version of Robert Jordan's WHEEL OF TIME series. It's something I do from time to time as a creative exercise. Assuming I were in a Peter Jackson kind of situation, famous enough and with enough money to begin to make Jordan's monumental work into a series of films, who would I want to play each role? I had a somewhat bizarre thought that perhaps Claudia Christian who played Susan Ivanova might make a good Nynaeve, who was always a problematic role to be filled because she needed to be a study in contrasting elements and yet not feel forced. Tough as nails, emotionally fragile, yet overwhelmingly in control even as the chaos mounts around her.
I'm thinking Judi Dench for Amys, as well. And the actress who played Isolde and in the Dr. Who "Girl in the Fireplace" episode as Elayne. Ahh, it's a fun exercise because it shows how I interpret each character in terms of appearance as well as attitude. The guy who played Wormtongue in LotR could do a very decent Masema. I should come up with a casting list.
Continuing to read Dear Theo I quickly hit upon the first warning sign in Van Gogh. He falls in love with his cousin "K" who rejects him, and all of his family also tells him "It's not gonna happen, Vinny," but his psyche can't process the fact that love is denied. In fact, he takes on the typical throes of delusion that younger wills often fall victim to and sees the denial as an encouragement, something that is challenging not only himself and his ego but also challenging LOVE as a kind of universal concept.
Van Gogh lives in terms of ideals, and the ecstasy of the spirit means that simple emotions which most folks can experience and not get totally swept away by happen on a larger magnitude. I'm a bit familiar with this both from my own overdramatic youth and from the growing pains of those who are actually developmentally 'off' that I've associated with in my past. One fraternity brother obsessed so completely over one of our mutual friends who made the mistake of being beautiful, unattainable to him, and completely -nice-, that when she would enter a room at a party we would all actually count the seconds before our other friend would find his way into the room and begin pestering through proximity.
We never got above 10 seconds, and even then most of the time it was 5. Once the ego declared that no, this girl really did love him and there still was the smallest chance, it became an exercise in futility. Any evidence to the contrary was handled by emotional logic, or e-logic, which filters reality through the emotional filter and removes any ability to acknowledge evidence to the contrary of the obsession. Since reality doesn't support the behaviors based on the obsession, it becomes a dangerous ticking time bomb. I'd imagine that serial killers or most crimes of passion occur because of the crossed wires of obsession at this intense emotional level. Since I'm only vaguely acquainted with the generalities of Van Gogh's history, I know that his rage at being thwarted by reality turns inwards and begins to destroy him from the inside, but had his temperament been less gentle history might have remembered Vincent for being a very different kind of creature who evoked horror and not sympathy.
Regardless, this is a very good read. He thinks big thoughts and the lens of his artistic talent amplifies everything around him. I don't question that he isolates himself from others, really, except from a long distance relationship with his brother Theo. When a Sensitive is in development, she needs to get away from the flood of emotional backwash and ambient static which normal interpersonal relationships entails.
Reading on.
In the pagan community usually the term 'Sensitive' is assumed to mean someone who is moderately psychic, or has latent abilities not yet developed. I use it in something of a broader term which isn't meant to specify just what someone is Sensitive toward. It could be color, perception, spirits, the future, food, emotions, what have you. I use it more in the terms of Joseph Campbell describing the likely candidates for shamanic training among primitives.
Sensitives are those humans who enter this life and have a more finely honed or refined ability to perceive, process, or respond to external or internal stimuli than other humans. It's not a value statement, it's more a statement of the precision of their ability to measure or interact with various things. For example, a seismograph is very sensitive to certain geological vibrations and motions which most humans can't feel or notice until they become full blown earth tremors or earthquakes. As a tool, it's sensitive to those vibrations which most other tools are not. As a result, the needle on a seismograph flutters when a pen on a page would be still.
Different humans perceive, process, or respond differently to the same stimuli. A sniper has a highly developed hand/eye coordination and ability to target. They're Sensitives in a different sort of way, and receive the training needed to make the most of their ability.
A Sensitive is likely to come at odds with the rest of us eventually as they begin to realize that, for some reason or another, folks around them are not responding to the same things they are. Or everyone else is ignoring what is setting them off and apparently refusing to see. Until the Sensitive realizes that their factory default is set differently than everyone else, or most everyone else, it can be extremely frustrating. If you've got access to someone else who understands what's going on, they can mentor you. If not... you're on your own to figure out how to deal with it.
First reaction of a Sensitive tends to be a dramatic confrontation with others. For those who have their gifts since childhood, this is a turbulent period in their early development. For those who come into their gifts later, this can be obsession, depression, megalomania, mania, argumentation, and sheer stubborn willfulness. Then when it becomes clear that it's an uphill battle, there's typically a self-imposed period of isolation or distacing from the rest of the world or community. This gives the space required to begin to come to grips with the Sensitivity.
Psychology will often diagnose Sensitives as being part of a problem, or from the symptoms they manifest instead of seeing the cure. And sometimes modern psychology has good tools to allow for a more peaceful integration of the Sensitive into community. Certain meds can allow for the continued development of social maturity without necessarily deadening or dulling the sensitivity. Some sensitivities are so finely precise and prone to being set off that a temporary dulling is actually desirable, to give the person a period of peace. Luckily, the kinds of meds which remove or damage the sensitivity completely don't seem to be used much anymore since they also severely impaired normal functioning as well... like Thorazine, for example.
I remain confident that contemporary psychological thought will eventually arrive at a sort of 'experiential therapy course' which will borrow heavily from shamanic training and old solutions, coupled with light uses of meds and a practice of pairing highly functioning sensitives with newly emerging sensitives to allow for transmission of wisdom and coping strategies to help shorten the period of adjustment.
Being Sensitive implies a destiny, a fate, a gift, or a dharma as 'Guru' Dave would put it. The process of adjustment consumes decades sometimes, but once it's done the Sensitive is finally empowered, individualized, and armed with coping techniques which allow the actual 'gift' or 'work' to begin. Sensitives take great pains from the rest of humanity to acculturate and socialize, but once functional levels of acculturation and socialization, and sheer outright coping, are attained then the gifts that pour forth from the Sensitive according to her own areas of sensitivity are often seen as Gifted, Genius, or Talented at the very least. To find Van Gogh the painter at the bottom of Van Gogh the tortured soul, is very much not surprising.
***
Slight change of subject. I had thought that my general feelings of malaise and gastrointestinal gymnastics of the last few days were the results of overindulgences in a party on Monday night. However, I found out to my horror that the turkey cold cuts from Stop & Shop had turned in our fridge just two days after purchase and I was actually undergoing a mild case of food poisoning. Lovely.
I'm a bit upset at Stop & Shop, a subsidiary of Giant Foods, if I recall correctly. They put in a store recently in the middle of the Urban Blight Sprawl of Bridgeport, and they seem to have made decisions of what to stock it with based upon racial and economic profiling. Ground beef cannot be found there any leaner than 85% in any quantities more than a pound, and the price point is significantly higher for the leaner beef than it is at a nearby Stop & Shop in an affluent neighborhood. And I've noticed several times that the Boars Head cold cuts were slightly drier and older in the new ghetto Stop & Shop, but for the same price.
Sad, really. This isn't a glorified garbage can with packaging, it's a grocery store. Shame on Stop & Shop for attempting to pawn off substandard products just because the local neighborhoods have a higher concentration of poverty than elsewhere. Did they think we wouldn't notice? Maybe so. And that's an even sadder statement than simply passing less-than-optimal quality along to customers in the first place.
Life is an eye-opening experience as a white man in a predominantly ethnic minority neighborhood. I'm sure the food is safe, but I question the geographic distribution of the "sub-optimal" foodstuffs... why put all of it here, instead of distributing it evenly among the rest of the chain's many stores nearby?
Hmm... Well, I had originally intended these last few paragraphs to be a Satire, but I suppose my clunky lack of comedy or style means I have to try harder to master that witty comedic form. Oh well. Here's my initial attempt. ;) Good thing for me satire cannot be considered slander or libellous. Good thing for me as well that my satirical attempt above doesn't need to be good to be considered an attempt at satire.
Interestingly enough what my brain is doing in the background while watching Bab 5 is working up a casting list for a movie version of Robert Jordan's WHEEL OF TIME series. It's something I do from time to time as a creative exercise. Assuming I were in a Peter Jackson kind of situation, famous enough and with enough money to begin to make Jordan's monumental work into a series of films, who would I want to play each role? I had a somewhat bizarre thought that perhaps Claudia Christian who played Susan Ivanova might make a good Nynaeve, who was always a problematic role to be filled because she needed to be a study in contrasting elements and yet not feel forced. Tough as nails, emotionally fragile, yet overwhelmingly in control even as the chaos mounts around her.
I'm thinking Judi Dench for Amys, as well. And the actress who played Isolde and in the Dr. Who "Girl in the Fireplace" episode as Elayne. Ahh, it's a fun exercise because it shows how I interpret each character in terms of appearance as well as attitude. The guy who played Wormtongue in LotR could do a very decent Masema. I should come up with a casting list.
Dear Theo notes
Continuing to read Dear Theo I quickly hit upon the first warning sign in Van Gogh. He falls in love with his cousin "K" who rejects him, and all of his family also tells him "It's not gonna happen, Vinny," but his psyche can't process the fact that love is denied. In fact, he takes on the typical throes of delusion that younger wills often fall victim to and sees the denial as an encouragement, something that is challenging not only himself and his ego but also challenging LOVE as a kind of universal concept.
Van Gogh lives in terms of ideals, and the ecstasy of the spirit means that simple emotions which most folks can experience and not get totally swept away by happen on a larger magnitude. I'm a bit familiar with this both from my own overdramatic youth and from the growing pains of those who are actually developmentally 'off' that I've associated with in my past. One fraternity brother obsessed so completely over one of our mutual friends who made the mistake of being beautiful, unattainable to him, and completely -nice-, that when she would enter a room at a party we would all actually count the seconds before our other friend would find his way into the room and begin pestering through proximity.
We never got above 10 seconds, and even then most of the time it was 5. Once the ego declared that no, this girl really did love him and there still was the smallest chance, it became an exercise in futility. Any evidence to the contrary was handled by emotional logic, or e-logic, which filters reality through the emotional filter and removes any ability to acknowledge evidence to the contrary of the obsession. Since reality doesn't support the behaviors based on the obsession, it becomes a dangerous ticking time bomb. I'd imagine that serial killers or most crimes of passion occur because of the crossed wires of obsession at this intense emotional level. Since I'm only vaguely acquainted with the generalities of Van Gogh's history, I know that his rage at being thwarted by reality turns inwards and begins to destroy him from the inside, but had his temperament been less gentle history might have remembered Vincent for being a very different kind of creature who evoked horror and not sympathy.
Regardless, this is a very good read. He thinks big thoughts and the lens of his artistic talent amplifies everything around him. I don't question that he isolates himself from others, really, except from a long distance relationship with his brother Theo. When a Sensitive is in development, she needs to get away from the flood of emotional backwash and ambient static which normal interpersonal relationships entails.
Reading on.
Sensitives
In the pagan community usually the term 'Sensitive' is assumed to mean someone who is moderately psychic, or has latent abilities not yet developed. I use it in something of a broader term which isn't meant to specify just what someone is Sensitive toward. It could be color, perception, spirits, the future, food, emotions, what have you. I use it more in the terms of Joseph Campbell describing the likely candidates for shamanic training among primitives.
Sensitives are those humans who enter this life and have a more finely honed or refined ability to perceive, process, or respond to external or internal stimuli than other humans. It's not a value statement, it's more a statement of the precision of their ability to measure or interact with various things. For example, a seismograph is very sensitive to certain geological vibrations and motions which most humans can't feel or notice until they become full blown earth tremors or earthquakes. As a tool, it's sensitive to those vibrations which most other tools are not. As a result, the needle on a seismograph flutters when a pen on a page would be still.
Different humans perceive, process, or respond differently to the same stimuli. A sniper has a highly developed hand/eye coordination and ability to target. They're Sensitives in a different sort of way, and receive the training needed to make the most of their ability.
A Sensitive is likely to come at odds with the rest of us eventually as they begin to realize that, for some reason or another, folks around them are not responding to the same things they are. Or everyone else is ignoring what is setting them off and apparently refusing to see. Until the Sensitive realizes that their factory default is set differently than everyone else, or most everyone else, it can be extremely frustrating. If you've got access to someone else who understands what's going on, they can mentor you. If not... you're on your own to figure out how to deal with it.
First reaction of a Sensitive tends to be a dramatic confrontation with others. For those who have their gifts since childhood, this is a turbulent period in their early development. For those who come into their gifts later, this can be obsession, depression, megalomania, mania, argumentation, and sheer stubborn willfulness. Then when it becomes clear that it's an uphill battle, there's typically a self-imposed period of isolation or distacing from the rest of the world or community. This gives the space required to begin to come to grips with the Sensitivity.
Psychology will often diagnose Sensitives as being part of a problem, or from the symptoms they manifest instead of seeing the cure. And sometimes modern psychology has good tools to allow for a more peaceful integration of the Sensitive into community. Certain meds can allow for the continued development of social maturity without necessarily deadening or dulling the sensitivity. Some sensitivities are so finely precise and prone to being set off that a temporary dulling is actually desirable, to give the person a period of peace. Luckily, the kinds of meds which remove or damage the sensitivity completely don't seem to be used much anymore since they also severely impaired normal functioning as well... like Thorazine, for example.
I remain confident that contemporary psychological thought will eventually arrive at a sort of 'experiential therapy course' which will borrow heavily from shamanic training and old solutions, coupled with light uses of meds and a practice of pairing highly functioning sensitives with newly emerging sensitives to allow for transmission of wisdom and coping strategies to help shorten the period of adjustment.
Being Sensitive implies a destiny, a fate, a gift, or a dharma as 'Guru' Dave would put it. The process of adjustment consumes decades sometimes, but once it's done the Sensitive is finally empowered, individualized, and armed with coping techniques which allow the actual 'gift' or 'work' to begin. Sensitives take great pains from the rest of humanity to acculturate and socialize, but once functional levels of acculturation and socialization, and sheer outright coping, are attained then the gifts that pour forth from the Sensitive according to her own areas of sensitivity are often seen as Gifted, Genius, or Talented at the very least. To find Van Gogh the painter at the bottom of Van Gogh the tortured soul, is very much not surprising.
***
Food Poisoning
Slight change of subject. I had thought that my general feelings of malaise and gastrointestinal gymnastics of the last few days were the results of overindulgences in a party on Monday night. However, I found out to my horror that the turkey cold cuts from Stop & Shop had turned in our fridge just two days after purchase and I was actually undergoing a mild case of food poisoning. Lovely.
I'm a bit upset at Stop & Shop, a subsidiary of Giant Foods, if I recall correctly. They put in a store recently in the middle of the Urban Blight Sprawl of Bridgeport, and they seem to have made decisions of what to stock it with based upon racial and economic profiling. Ground beef cannot be found there any leaner than 85% in any quantities more than a pound, and the price point is significantly higher for the leaner beef than it is at a nearby Stop & Shop in an affluent neighborhood. And I've noticed several times that the Boars Head cold cuts were slightly drier and older in the new ghetto Stop & Shop, but for the same price.
Sad, really. This isn't a glorified garbage can with packaging, it's a grocery store. Shame on Stop & Shop for attempting to pawn off substandard products just because the local neighborhoods have a higher concentration of poverty than elsewhere. Did they think we wouldn't notice? Maybe so. And that's an even sadder statement than simply passing less-than-optimal quality along to customers in the first place.
Life is an eye-opening experience as a white man in a predominantly ethnic minority neighborhood. I'm sure the food is safe, but I question the geographic distribution of the "sub-optimal" foodstuffs... why put all of it here, instead of distributing it evenly among the rest of the chain's many stores nearby?
Hmm... Well, I had originally intended these last few paragraphs to be a Satire, but I suppose my clunky lack of comedy or style means I have to try harder to master that witty comedic form. Oh well. Here's my initial attempt. ;) Good thing for me satire cannot be considered slander or libellous. Good thing for me as well that my satirical attempt above doesn't need to be good to be considered an attempt at satire.
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
Dear Theo notes
Part of studying with Dave means that I have homework. First reading assignment is DEAR THEO by Vincent VanGogh. I picked up my copy today from the Fairfield Borders. I'll be keeping some notes here.
30 pages in and already Van Gogh is showing through. He sees differently than his contemporaries, even though he's still in the phase of yearning solely to become a clergyman. He doodles and dismisses what he draws as being secondary to the pursuit of the spirit. Yet he's already beginning to find those things which on the surface seem to be conforming to the spirit of his times, yet underneath are truly his own. He thinks, and he thinks deeply. He dismisses some art forms which are apparently well thought of by his Uncle as being devoid of soul.
Makes me think. As much as I like to poke fun of the heady self-importance of trying to decide what makes Art, as opposed to Illustration, or even 'just' Paint on a Canvas, it becomes immediately apparent that the question is a valid one. I'll have to keep that in mind, though I don't know that I necessarily need to have the idea solid before producing art myself. Odd consideration. Maybe it's better phrased as "what makes Art -good-?" Not necessarily pretty, but what elevates certain kinds of art while other artists become recognized for technical brilliance but never attain any kind of vaunted status? Not that status is the proper desire for any artist, but it's still a question which immediately jumps to mind. What's the difference between a Vermeer, for example, and an Ary Sheffer, for example? Who's Ary Sheffer? Exactly.
Reading on.
One thing is for certain, though... Van Gogh was extremely intelligent, and extremely attentive to his surroundings, even from the beginning of his letters in his early 20's.
30 pages in and already Van Gogh is showing through. He sees differently than his contemporaries, even though he's still in the phase of yearning solely to become a clergyman. He doodles and dismisses what he draws as being secondary to the pursuit of the spirit. Yet he's already beginning to find those things which on the surface seem to be conforming to the spirit of his times, yet underneath are truly his own. He thinks, and he thinks deeply. He dismisses some art forms which are apparently well thought of by his Uncle as being devoid of soul.
Makes me think. As much as I like to poke fun of the heady self-importance of trying to decide what makes Art, as opposed to Illustration, or even 'just' Paint on a Canvas, it becomes immediately apparent that the question is a valid one. I'll have to keep that in mind, though I don't know that I necessarily need to have the idea solid before producing art myself. Odd consideration. Maybe it's better phrased as "what makes Art -good-?" Not necessarily pretty, but what elevates certain kinds of art while other artists become recognized for technical brilliance but never attain any kind of vaunted status? Not that status is the proper desire for any artist, but it's still a question which immediately jumps to mind. What's the difference between a Vermeer, for example, and an Ary Sheffer, for example? Who's Ary Sheffer? Exactly.
Reading on.
One thing is for certain, though... Van Gogh was extremely intelligent, and extremely attentive to his surroundings, even from the beginning of his letters in his early 20's.
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