The Gifts of Vincent van Gogh

Love what you love

Van Gogh’s Second Gift: A spiritual path to deeper creativity is one of my favorite books of the year. It’s a look at the artist and his life, his paintings and philosophy, all through the lens of his own words. Van Gogh’s cache of letters offers insights about himself, of course, but with the author Cliff Edwards’ counsel they are transformed into a guide to enhancing creativity through the deeper questions that life asks (if you’re listening).

“Love what we love… After all, how many people expend their best efforts on something that isn’t worthy of their best efforts, and treat what they love in a “stepmotherly” fashion instead of giving themselves openly to the irresistible urging of their hearts.”

11/21/1881 letter to Anton van Rappard

I found this book on the new books shelf at the library and was immediately drawn to it: first the cover and then as I flipped through, the format. It’s small with short chapters called Illuminations, and each one ends with the author’s observations and suggestions for reflection and engagement.

Cliff Edwards published Van Gogh’s Second Gift in 2020. He’s an Emeritus Professor of religion and the arts at Virginia Commonwealth University and a noted Van Gogh scholar who previously wrote Van Gogh and God. Edwards treats Vincent’s letters with respect and reverence and practically implores us to read them for ourselves because there’s so much more to glean.

This is the kind of book that I read with pen and notebook at hand. I took six pages of notes, copied more than a dozen quotes and listed several books and movies to investigate. I also got a book of his paintings from the library to look at, going back and forth from the text to the art. To say I immersed myself in all things Vincent would be an understatement. He has so much to say!

Van Gogh’s letters bring a complex and interesting man to life. We get to know Vincent the philosopher; Vincent the encourager and consoler; Vincent the walker and nature-lover; Vincent the reader.

How someone so depressed and troubled could offer so much hope and comfort amazes me. But it’s human, isn’t it, how easily we offer advice and extend grace to others but have a hard time applying it to ourselves. Vincent is a gentle guide, encouraging us to remember the consolations of art and nature, of color and light. He wrote of himself and fellow creators: “their task as modern artists was to explore, celebrate, and console the immediate world around them.”

The titles of the 41 Illuminations (chapters) come from the letters and set the intention for each one. A sampling: “Find Things Beautiful as Much as You Can,” “Carry Your Own Quest for Serenity,” and “By Liking a Thing, One Sees It Better.” Vincent’s life was a meandering path walked with eyes wide open.

Always continue walking a lot and loving nature, for that’s the real way to learn and understand art better and better.

January 1874 letter to his brother Theo

Edwards is an excellent writer, and each Illumination reads like a lecture. He is warm, playful, and informative but leaves the reader wanting to know more. I bet he was a well-loved professor.

As I read this book, I kept thinking how Vincent was ahead of his time. Two examples: he wrote ‘List and give thanks for beautiful moments,’ in other words make a gratitude list. How many times in the last decade have we seen this suggestion for a better life, to list a few things we’re grateful for every morning or the evening?

When he entered the asylum for treatment, he realized that mental health is no different than physical. He writes to his brother Theo: “I think I’ve done well to come here, first, in seeing the reality of life of the diverse, mad or cracked people in this menagerie, I’m losing the vague dread, the fear of the thing. And little by little I can come to consider madness as being an illness like any other.”

It seems a little silly to say that I’ve always loved color (who doesn’t?) but it’s true and after paging through the book of his complete paintings my conclusion is that Vincent had all the best colors, the richest, most saturated, most true-to-nature colors. He was a master at describing what he saw with love and awe and has inspired me to start naming the colors I see, too.

“The dwellings here are very wide, among oak trees of a superb bronze. Tones of golden green in the moss, of reddish or blueish or yellowish dark lilac greys in the soil, tones of inexpressible purity in the green of the little wheatfields…”

11/2/1883 letter to his brother Theo

Van Gogh was a reader and lived a ‘Great Books’ approach to life. He re-read Uncle Tom’s Cabin over and over, finding solace and inspiration in its pages. And when he entered the asylum to heal, he brought with him a copy of the complete works of William Shakespeare. Apparently after reading King Lear he had to go outside and gaze at a blade of grass to calm himself. Can you remember the last time you felt so deeply?

A final anecdote from this quietly magnificent book: Vincent wrote to an art critic in response to his critique (it was both positive and negative) and he was so kind and generous:

I like it very much as a work of art in itself. I feel that you create colors with your words; anyway I rediscover my canvases in your article, but better than they really are – richer, more significant.

1890 letter to George-Albert Aurier

Wow! Talk about review goals…

I hope that I’ve persuaded you to give this tiny but mighty book a try. Even if his paintings aren’t among your favorites, perhaps his second gift – the thoughts and ideas in his letters – will reach you as they did me.