It's a very nervous picture, a sunflower. Gold, red and orange covered the whole painting. Oh, no, it's not paving the way, it's smearing, which is extremely wild and persistent. Bright sunflowers make you feel warm. In front of you, it seems like a sunflower forest. They swayed and waved to the sun, and in the sun, they merged into a golden ocean. The light shines on the face, as if the whole person is wrapped in sunshine and flowers, and the warm current flows all over the body, which makes people intoxicated.
Turn my eyes, it's an equally beautiful painting. In the silent city, it was dark. People have fallen asleep, leaving only the mysterious night sky and the stars that persistently decorate the night sky. That star is very bright, which makes people cry and reveals loneliness and coldness. The brushwork of the painting is very big, so you can imagine how the author persistently wants to paint the scene in front of him and express his unknown feelings.
Looking away again, the painting seems to feel the sacred light again. When you first see it, you will feel free and happy. There are large pieces of gold intertwined in that painting, which is dazzling. This is a wheat field. The vision of the picture is a few strokes of blue and purple, which is vague and has a kind of quiet and peaceful beauty, that is, the distant mountains and residential quarters, the sky is green, and a little man is standing in the wheat field, looking at the vast wheat field. Sunshine will bear beautiful fruits there. The whole painting is full of peace, happiness and love. ...
Yes, it was written by Van Gogh Vincent. When he was alive, people thought he was a subversive, but that was just that people never entered his inner world. Love is buried in his heart, and he paints with the hottest emotions. At the last moment, I think he must have seen such a beautiful picture: purple irises are in full bloom in the sky, golden sunflowers are dancing beside him, and there are endless wheat fields and golden ears of wheat are lodging in the wind. With golden clouds at his fingertips, he seemed to hear the light songs of the choir and see the cross that penetrated the dusk. He was born again.
Chapter Two: Van Gogh
The dim light enveloped everything in the messy studio. Gray and colorful oil paintings are filled with pungent smell, losing calmness and fear. The man with red curly hair and a full face of cheeks is still staring at the deep night sky. The loneliness of being left out is still passing in the corner of my eye, and the gray cold wind is blowing all the reflections.
Once, the crazy pursuit of art and that extraordinary talent were ignored by the world.
Once, hatred of the world was called mental illness by the world. When he was locked in the hospital, he still painted the scenery of heaven with a crystal brush with his passion for art.
Once, the loyalty to love, stubbornly cut off the right ear, a river of blood. Still waving a brush, I carved my lonely appearance on the yellowed canvas and recorded the gloomy moment forever.
Sunflowers in various shapes were once painted with dazzling yellow, and the vibrant flowers swayed in the cycle of years.
Once, countless works were washed away by the torrent of time, and finally every work was stored by classics.
Once, I died quietly in a cold grave and buried that lonely face with loess.
The broken years are sinking and we are no longer young. Those vague memories that are clearly extinguished are slowly swallowed up by the scattered years.
The old wind tore the night, and the once fragments fell to the ground.
Van Gogh, the deep man, is forever imprinted in my heart like a tattoo.
Gorgeous sunflowers bloom under the starry night sky. Van Gogh and I stood there across the distance between heaven and earth, our trembling hands could not be touched for a long time, and the cold was frozen by the night wind.
Chapter 3: Looking up at Van Gogh
I look up to Van Gogh who fell in the sun but stood in my heart forever, and look up to the burning of life with all my senses.
I met him for the first time. When I painted my self-portrait, I only felt that he was old-fashioned, like an old farmer, or even a madman. Indeed, before he died, everyone thought he was crazy. But just as I was thinking, my father told me: You should feel it with your heart.
I saw Sunflower in a desk calendar when I was very young. "Is that a sunflower?" I can't help thinking that, in my opinion, it's just a big red orange, more like a flame. When I saw Sunflower again, it was in the history textbook of grade three. This time, I have another feeling: this is really a flame. Van Gogh came to the southern suburbs of France to sketch in 1988. He couldn't help shouting over and over again, "A little brighter, a little brighter." I gradually realized and felt Van Gogh's love for art. Perhaps in his eyes, this sunflower is really dancing like a flame. His heart is full of sunshine, countless flames are dancing, and all forms of expression are dancing under the control of fierce spirit. But no one knows that he ended his life in the sun.
No one knows why he did it, whether he was crazy, mentally ill or heavily in debt. I think these are all wrong, and this may be his liberation and redemption. Perhaps it is too spiritual domination that makes life so fragile, but like sunflowers in the south China, everything is burning. It is the yearning for freedom of life, the passion for art and the pursuit of sunshine, but the darkness of reality can't satisfy him, so Van Gogh ignited himself, and you are willing to burn endlessly in this sunshine, even if it is reduced to ashes.
Wind speed running between heaven and earth, this is a kind of "madman", a kind of courage that can ignite life and break through secular flattery like a torch. Even if it is burned, burned, and burned to ashes, it can smell as good as ever. ……
Chapter four: Van Gogh led me to grow up.
Even during the day, there will be corners where sunlight cannot attack.
Even in the dark, there will be stars to guide you.
Reflections on Starry Night
I sat by the window, staring at the vast night sky, watching the lonely stars twinkling in the sky. The air spins in silence, forming black waves. Is this Van Gogh's Starry Night? Blue-black mountains surround lonely villages, and the blue-purple night sky is intertwined with shining stars and rolled. He seems to be telling the helpless struggle of life in the dark. However, a poplar tree stands abruptly, its flame-like branches firmly point to the starry sky, burning endless night. This must be a rock-breaking cry before the end of life! That's Van Gogh's cry for life and ideals! That's Van Gogh's belief as persistent as a flame.
Isn't it in this darkness and confusion that I am in the third grade now? Repeated failures have put me in trouble, and repeated falls have exhausted me physically and mentally. Breathing the cold air, my heart froze in the dark, but I had no choice but to keep on believing and never give up. Cold can't freeze my heart, and darkness can't stop my steps. Van Gogh, light up the road ahead for me with starry night.
The fragrance of sunflowers
The streets of Brussels are sunny, and even the air turns golden. You face the sun, and your depressed and tired pale face melts in the golden sunshine like a sunflower. You have a smile on your face, cold eye marks on your cheeks, and sadness. You drew a sunflower in your mind. Fourteen flowers with different shapes will eventually wither, but each one seems to be trying to bloom at the last moment of life. I know you have tried your best to let the world see the sun in your heart. Even if your face is as haggard as that petal, you never give up your dream to pursue the simplest and most common thing in the world, that is the sun.
I have a dream, too. I am full of hope. I never stop running towards my dream. But now I am afraid, I dare not go on, because the future is very confused, and I have lost my direction. I am not as strong as you. I've been lost countless times. Just when my faith was shaken, you used your paintings to teach me to travel through time and space, stick to my dreams and pursue all the light in the world. Van Gogh, use sunflowers to lead me to strengthen my faith and face the sun.
He shines in the dark, prays for happiness in suffering and looks for hope in despair. Van Gogh, put wings on me and pursue light and dreams with a strong heart. Van Gogh, lead me to grow up.
Chapter Five: Van Gogh
Van Gogh, a sad name. If it weren't for his paintings, maybe I wouldn't know there was a man named Van Gogh.
The flowing beauty in his paintings makes his paintings more beautiful. The sunflowers in the picture are in full bloom under the sunshine. However, your Lord, Van Gogh, is so lonely and isolated. There is too much pain in his deep and beautiful eyes. His eyes are like a swamp. People are afraid to look into his eyes. We can't afford his pain.
You, Van Gogh, are as talented as Shakespeare. He can have the noblest praise in the world, and you only deserve the worst abuse. Everyone judges you with a dirty soul and sends you to the deepest part of hell in a few words. You cut off your ear to resist fate. But you still have one ear, listening to the sound of the breeze blowing and the sound of the clear rain dripping. You just lie under the starlight, muttering to yourself and squinting at the stage at night. The grass under your feet still smells of day. You wait for the sun, the sun is high above. The golden sunshine covered Van Gogh and the wonderful sunflower. From now on, you wave your pen and hand. Smooth lines make your blood boil and roar. You look at the sunflower and give me a smile.
You put away your painting and get up perfectly. Look at that man. He's the madman you said. A high-end woman looked contemptuously and said strangely.
Van Gogh's heart suddenly hurt. All the enthusiasm and spirit have faded, leaving only the lonely figure gradually entering the lowest and cheapest friend's small wooden pavilion. ...
Finally, Van Gogh took his own life. Maybe he was still smiling at the last minute, so shallow. ...