The Side Effects of Endorphins

I woke up today with Don Macleans beautiful song Vincent going through my head. Many people know the classic American Pie from that album. I believe “Vincent” to be a timeless classic. I always think of it as the clean out the paintbrush painting that turned out better than the original. I kinda love those.

Paint your palette blue and grey,
Look out on a summer’s day,
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul.
Shadows on the hills,
Sketch the trees and the daffodils,
Catch the breeze and the winter chills,
In colors on the snowy linen land. 

Now I understand what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they did not know how.
Perhaps they’ll listen now.

He was also exhausted from working hard and the lofty standards he set for himself. He was uncertain about the future and felt that he had failed, as a man and as an artist.

At this point in his career, he was starting to get some recognition, but his mental state deteriorated to the point where he would not even recognize it.

So I don’t know why I woke up thinking of this and van Gogh this morning. I love to paint. I’ve even painted a Van Gogh or two and they’re fun and accessible but for me that’s pure joy and Folly.

I think I thought of this as I walked to my desk this morning. I write some pretty decent computer programs, but sometimes we want recognition for writing decent computer programs.

Or we need a day off.

We author stories because we like to write stories. I had a short story published in a book recently. My wife finally read it, and that little bit of recognition felt rather nice.

Hopefully it gave her an understanding of what I do.

And a toast to you, Vincent.