25/08/18. (01:01) Day 236. Starry Night. '...200 years ago a man by the name of Vincent wrote in a letter to his brother: "What I am in the eyes of most people - a nonentity, an eccentric, or an unpleasant person- somebody who has no position in society and will never have; in short, the lowest of the low. All right then - even if that were absolutely true, then I should like to show by my work what such an eccentric, such a nobody, has in his heart." He then set brush to canvas and made this thing - this perfect, incredible, indelible thing - that in a dark museum hundreds of years later group after group will gather in front of in silent awe. He was a man who surely wrestled with the fear that he was not enough. And who from a blank canvas wrested the divine. I cry standing in front of it because beauty and love are their own dark arts, and humanity never ceases to surprise me.' - @meg_fee, Places I Stopped on the Way Home
