Starry Night o'er a sleepy town.
The day is done, the sun gone down.
Stars twinkle in the night,
but not every night is right.
Horror sneaks about in this town,
with the peaceful stars shining softly down.
What horror could stalk on this pleasant night?
The twisted brain of a man not quite right.
This was another creative writing class project. We were asked to write a poem related to Van Gogh's Starry Night. I have to be honest, when I was young I thought Van Gogh must have been on drugs and it kept me from trying drugs (true story.) As I got older, I began to wonder what the world saw in this artist. (I still wonder). Now I look at his art and I wonder if he was on drugs, if he had something different with his brain that led him to see the world this way, or if he was just REALLY good at snowing the public of his time into considering him a great artist and somehow that misconception stuck. I know third graders who can create better artwork. If I posted one of Van Gogh's less known pieces of art as a cover, I would get tons of well-meaning advice suggesting that I "hire a professional" to re-work my cover.
Thinking of Van Gogh makes me wonder about some indie authors who have had success with books that I considered poorly written, badly edited, or just straight up ripped off from other authors. At least Van Gogh was original. And that makes me wonder about the masses who flocked to these unnamed books. Are they on drugs? Is there something different about their brains? Did these authors find a magical way to fool the masses into believing these books were great art? Will that misconception stand the test of time?
Or maybe my brain is the one that is off.