Van Gogh had an attitude I always wanted to emulate. When he was in love with
a prostitute, he gave her his most priced possession, his index finger.
The poor girl probably never survived the shock. But then knowing schizophrenia as I do
now, it was a wonderful gesture. A soul trying to give something animate so as to make sense
of the madness that was before him. I like Van Gogh's paintings--Starry starry night, scream, and sunflowers. I like it so much because the paintings scare me. I look at it and halfway I start to feel as if someone was watching me with the paintings. Multiple personalities are so passe these days. So when Coffemaker, a long time friend/artiste/Van Gogh follower invited me to his despedida party, I reluctantly agreed. The next question was where was he going?
Cafe 77 was the name of the cafe the party was set. Somewhere in kamuning, it was a quaint and weirdly nonchalant place. Wine bottles in the corner and it had a peaceful eerie feeling, much like looking at starry starry night. It was also then that Coffemaker announced that he had a show in NYC and he's about to go to the states. Wow. NYC. Art Exhibit. Clap. Clap. Clap. Clap.
I always wanted to see an honest to goodness art exhibit. Though I've never seen Coffemaker's work, I knew it was going to be a blast. I mean he loves Van Gogh. He used to have this weird afro hair and he used to scare little schoolchildren. So GooDlUcK DeaR frIEnd...