For this week’s “Every Picture Has A Story”, I give you Starry Night by Vincent Van Gough. The story behind the picture is very emotional for me.
I don’t really remember when I first saw the picture above, but it immediately drew me in. It was just something about all the crude swirls. When I read about Van Gough’s life the hook went in deeper. He struggled with his identity all of his short life, and so did I. I just didn’t understand why I always seemed to be on the outside looking in. It would be decades before I found out that I had Aspie traits that made me think and act differently than those around me.
Finally, when I came across the song by Don McLean called “Vincent” recorded in 1972 the attachment to “Starry Night”, was stapled to my soul. From that day forward I had a poster of “Starry Night” on my man-cave wall. I can’t imagine how many times I played that song before I went deat, but it always brought on some serious emotions. If you want to see the lyrics for the song click HERE.
And that brings me to the current story to close out this post:
Yesterday I went down to get a special hot fudge sundae in my RetCom lounge and found that John was also there to play and sing a few songs for our entertainment. I have seen him on several occasions. On one of those occasions I told him that I was once an avid guitar playing wannabe singer. I told him about my love of folk music. Especially songs like “Vincent”. I informed him that I was deaf and can’t hear anything now, but if I put my fingers on the body of an acoustical guitar and can sort of hear it being played, and that brought at least a little satisfaction.
As I finished my sundae, he invited me to once again “feel the music”. There were about 50 people in the lounge, so I was reluctant to do that, but without voicing any words he “insisted” that I come up and join him. As I approached, he started talking, and I’m sure it was to explain to everyone what was happening.
I put my fingers on his guitar and heard and saw him playing the usual chords. The longer I “listened”, the more emotions began to rise. On most occasions I enjoy this mode of hearing, but this time I was almost overwhelmed by the thought that I haven’t heard music for 30+ years and would never do so again! I was fighting back the tears until the song was over and then before my mini-meltdown became obvious I quickly rushed off. When I turned around, he was inviting me to come back for another one. Instead of telling him why I didn’t want to, I gave him the sign for crying, and he understood.
I cried my eyes out for several minutes and then like usual my pity-party ended.