i visited my old friend Vincent at the National Gallery today.
I stared at his sunflowers and chair for at least 40 minutes straight.
And i have realised, that every single time i look at one of his painitngs i find myself salivating. i can see why he wanted to eat his yellow paint so bad now.
Seriously i can see you Barbara, in an opium den in late 1800’s, chasing the dragon and then painting something grand.
And you’d be a man.
and i’d be a sexy man too. sexy painter man, chasing dragons and making babies, living with one leg and a large benign tumour behind my left ear. drinking profusely and stealing rich peoples clothes for ma prostitute friends, owning a monkey and a cockerel and several sheep in a one bedroom apartment.
that was all intended as a joke but its started to sound alot like heaven.
