This is the story of the chair
Zoot the cat sat on. It was a treasure purchased at a second hand store by my friend Diva
Arlene. Here is the noble cat sitting beside his beloved chair. He has no idea what's about to happen next...
One day, Arlene had a wonderful idea. She saw a beautiful chair in a magazine, and she wanted to give
Zoot's chair a
face lift. So naturally, she decided it needed a fresh coat of paint.
And who, exactly, does one call when one wants to do something artsy-crazy to a cat chair? Me, of course! After some discussion,
we decided that
I would paint the chair "
Faux Vogh".
"Starry starry night ..." We even had some musical
accompaniment by Josh in the process. He is learning to play the song
"Vincent" on piano. It was all very inspiring. Arlene
supervised the whole thing bringing all the paints, brushes, and plastic needed to pull this thing off. She also baked up some scrumptious Pear Ginger Walnut Muffins [perhaps these should be renamed
Vincent Muffins, eh?], coffee and later on, slaved over a hot stove to produce some
Van Gogh Soup for the starving artist and her accompanying offspring. [I'm hoping Arlene will post the recipes on her blog]Is the chair finished? No! There's more to come,
much more, so watch my blog.
Vincent
Paint your palette blue and gray
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
Starry, starry night
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze
Swirling clouds in violet haze
Reflecting V
incent's eyes of china blue
Colours changing hue
Morning fields of amber grain
Weathered faces lined in pain
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hands
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
For they could not love you
But still your love was true
And when no hope was left in sight
On that starry, starry night
You took your life as lovers often do
But I could have told you Vincent
This world was never meant for one as
Beautiful as you
Starry, starry night
Portraits hung in empty halls
Frameless heads on nameless walls
With eyes that watch the world and can't forget
Like the strangers that you've met
The ragged men in ragged clothes
A silver thorn on a bloody rose
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow
Now I think I know
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're not listening still
Perhaps they never will
Note: The lyrics above, were written by Don MacLean in 1971 after he had read a book about Vincent Van Gogh. Buried in a time capsule beneath the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam, is a copy of the sheet music to Vincent, along with a set of Van Gogh's paint brushes.
Life is simply grand when one has friends that are crazy enough to show up at your house clad in the their pajamas on a Saturday morning ready to party.
In case you didn't know, today is Ukrainian Christmas. We don't celebrate it per se, however, when our sons were little, I decided to make them a Ukrainian Christmas stocking so they would have something a little special at the very end of the Christmas season. This way, I also had an excuse to make the holidays last that much longer. (As I write this, I'm listening to a CD playing Silent Night).
