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The bedroom belongs to the artist Vincent
van Gogh. When he
painted it, he was living in
Arles, a town in Provence, in the south of
France.
It’s a very tidy bedroom.
By painting my bedroom where everything is in its place, I am
showing that I have now decided to take care of myself and to organize
my life properly. I haven’t got a house my own.
I am a real bohemian artist.
The weather in Holland, where I was born, is not
always good, so here I am, in Provence, in search of
sunshine. That’s the reason I love having a bedroom so full of light and bursting
colors.
There isn’t much furniture.
I am very poor so I only have the essentials, and what I have is very plain
furniture. Of course there is a bed, and there are also
two chairs, in case someone comes to visit me.
I spend all my time painting. It is the thing I love most in the
whole world. For me it is unthinkable to live in a place
without paintings. On the right-hand side there are two
portraits of friends and underneath are drawings,
done on paper. On the back wall there is a landscape.
There are two chairs, two pillows, two portraits on the wall, two drawings
and even two doors.
I don’t share the bedroom with anyone but maybe multiplying everything by
two makes me feel less lonely.
There is nothing to suggest it is a painter’s bedroom.
There is no way of knowing that it’s an artist´s bedroom because my materials are not on display.
We can not see any colored pencils or paint brushes. I use to
work outside for many hours every day. I want my bedroom
for relaxation, for making myself feel comfortable and for sleeping
peacefully.
It’s a very simple picture.
The objects are very normal, and the colors are flat, without any
tones.
I want my pantings to be easy to understand. The outlines of the
colors are easy to follow, because I generally use thick lines.
When Van Gogh died in 1890, he only sold one painting.
People normally find them frightening, but
very few people actually know my own paintings.
When I finish one panting, I use to send it
to my brother Teo in Paris.
People only began to appreciate the impact of his work after he died. He was terribly lonely and finally he committed
suicide, still unknown to the world. Almost fifty years later, people started to
see him like a hero, and to appreciate his work. There are also some movies
about him. Our feelings about him today go beyond the pictures he
painted.
He was anxious and psychologically fragile, and he suffered a great deal. During the time that he was alive,
doctors didn’t know how to properly treat mental and emotional
problems. But when he painted, he knew exactly what he wanted to do and why, and he was extraordinary
sensitive and intelligent.
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