sharing a song: Vincent

I love it when someone shares a favorite song, such as on facebook (thanks, Evan Hurst!). In this case, I got to hear the poetry of Don McLean, and his song, "Starry, starry night," plus, there are pictures of FRANCE!

I've been feeling that itch I've had the last couple of years, when I got to plan and go on an exciting summer trip: France! The churches and chapels, the farms, the mountains and the landscapes! The villages with old buildings, the kind-hearted people, and the bikes of the Tour de France (I didn't see any of those in Van Gogh's paintings, but they are big in my memories.)

For me, like I've mentioned other times, France is an escape, and I was privileged to go several times, and it's been therapeutic and WONDERFUL! So these pictures of landscapes of the south of France make me remember and feel nostalgic for those adventures that I took with Liz, Sara, and Phil.

I also think of gifted musicians and artists, and I think how the world may look on and not realize their pain that is a day-to-day reality for them. Sharing one's art is so often straight from the heart, and sometimes, no one really knows.

Enjoy the song...


STARRY STARRY NIGHT
BY Don McLean
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
And how you suffered for your sanity
And 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
Reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue
Colors changing hue
Morning fields of amber grain
Weathered faces lined in pain
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand.

Now I understand
What you tried to say, to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And 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 inside
On that starry, starry night
You took your life as lovers often do--
But I could've 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
The silver thorn, a bloody rose
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow.

Now I think I know
What you tried to say, to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free:
They would not listen; they're not listening still--
Perhaps they never will.