A Story She Wrote (2015)

“Look at the sky. It's not dark and black and without character...shining, burning, bursting through: the stars!” shouts the wild redheaded man to the heavens. Van Gogh. Lying on their backs in the field, Amy Pond and the Eleventh Doctor gaze in wonder as slowly, at the description by the madman, the atmosphere begins to swish and spin, transforming into the masterpiece “Starry Night.”

​I have always loved the stars. On strange winter nights when the sky seems to explode with the dazzling white light of the heavens, I have been known to leave my house to stand or lie down in a field, looking up and feeling my place in the universe. The sky domes over, infinitely spilling over the edges of the world, and I feel the rhythm of the earth as it spins below me. Burning spheres of elements and metals, stars are fearsome, wild things. Yet millions of miles away, they do not seem as terrifying and violent as they are in reality. Instead, they glow with a soft light that has provided centuries of hope and guidance on the darkest nights, to the loneliest people. As I watched the swirling night sky in season 5, episode 10 of BBC’s hit science fiction show Doctor Who, I realized that one of the greatest gifts given to humanity is the ability to look up and see things from a perspective completely unique to the individual. The Van Gogh of the show, as well as of real life, spent his days ostracized and rejected by the people around him who considered his depressive episodes evidence of “madness.”Alone and misunderstood, he spent his darkest moments manifesting his dreams with nothing but bright visions and shocking brushstrokes that no one had ever seen. While some may claim he lost his battle at his own hand, I believe that he won, conquering his demons by loving a beautiful world even when it turned against him. Perhaps what it took is the ability to look beyond the reality of existence and realize that passion overrides societal scrutiny, for doing what one loves is noble in itself, even if risky or unusual. Perhaps only then can one use “passion and pain to portray the ecstasy and joy and magnificence of our world.” I’d claim that all the great artists were a little mad, but maybe it was because they refused to look down into the grey that surrounded them, and instead never ceased gazing upwards, looking for the stars. Either way, their stories live.

​My art is not highest quality you will see, nor the most creative or innovative. Yet look at it from my perspective. Though simple, to me it is a victory, a testament to stepping outside my comfort zone. I am no Van Gogh, but I too am attempting to find perspective and identity amidst the pressure of this beautiful world. I too am finding my passions. I may be a dreamer, but I am seeking out the stars.