Letter from Vincent van Gogh to Theo van Gogh (c. 22 June 1883) ... up this time; I was absolutely
penniless. The woman had no milk to nurse the baby those last
days, and I too felt very faint. As a last effort I went in
desperation to Tersteeg. I thought, “I have nothing to
lose, perhaps it is a way to bring about a better state of
affairs.” So I went there with a large sketch, about
which I wrote you in my last letter. It has turned into a row
of diggers, men and women, with lumps of earth in the
foreground and a glimpse of some roofs of a little village in
the background. I told Tersteeg that I understood perfectly
well this sketch could not be anything for him, but that I came
to show it to him because it was so long since he had seen any
of my work and because I for one wanted to prove that I did not
feel any ill will about what had happened last year. Well, he
said that he did not hold a grudge, either; as to the drawing,
he had told me last year that I ought to make watercolours, and
he did not want to repeat himself by talking...
Letter from Vincent van Gogh to Theo van Gogh (25 or 26 July 1883) ... oftener if you can, that must be
possible. I must go on with my work, but a feeling of
prostration overwhelms me again and again - a general
faintness, a reaction after exertion, which keeps returning,
and which I must try to overcome, otherwise it will get
worse.
I wouldn't say this to De Bock or anyone - but I trust you
enough to tell you, it isn't a question of losing courage or
giving up, but of having spent more strength than could be
spared, and of being more or less exhausted. All in all, the
main thing is that a good understanding remains between us and
that we keep our friendship warm. If bad luck comes, we'll
brave it, but, brother, let's stick faithfully together. I am
the gainer in all respects, for without you I shouldn't have
been able to get as far as I have now. You don't gain anything
by it, except the feeling of helping somebody to a career who
would otherwise be without one.
And who knows what we may achieve together for the
future?
Getting...
Letter from Vincent van Gogh to Theo van Gogh (early July 1885) ... three-quarters of it - the children.
I must go out and work - I didn't want to put off writing
any longer; I am dog-tired every day because I have to go far,
far across the heath!
I have also done some more figures.
I am very sorry to hear what you said about the money, that
you will be very hard up yourself.
Painting is sometimes so damned expensive, and especially
nowadays, it is so necessary to follow one's own idea,
coûte que coûte.
“Il nous faut un art de force vive” [What we
want is an art with live vigour], Raffaelli says, and in order
to reach that aim in figure drawing, it costs a lot of trouble
to find models.
The time has past - and I don't want it back - when it was
enough for a figure to be academically, conventionally correct,
or rather, though many still ask for this, a reaction is
setting in - and I hope it will make some stir. The artists
call for character, well - the public will do the same.
I assure you...
Letter from Vincent van Gogh to Theo van Gogh (9 April 1888) ... like striking while the iron is hot.
I shall be all in when the orchards are over, for they are
size 25 and 30 and 20 canvases. We should not have too many of
them, even if I could knock off twice as many. It seems to me
that this may really break the ice in Holland. Mauve's death
was a terrible blow to me. You will see that the pink peach
trees were painted with a certain passion.
I must also have a starry night with cypresses, or perhaps
above all, a field of ripe corn; there are some wonderful
nights here. I am in a continual fever of work.
I'm very curious to know what the result will be at the end
of a year.
Letter from Vincent van Gogh to Theo van Gogh (c. 3 May 1888) ... and
the prostration of it! Work in these magnificent natural
surroundings has restored my morale, but even now some efforts
are too much for me: my strength fails me. And that was why,
when I wrote you the other day, I said that if you left the
Goupils, you would feel healthier in mind, but the cure would
be very painful. Whereas one does not feel the disease
itself.
My poor boy, our neurosis. etc., comes, it's true, from our
way of living, which is too purely the artist's life, but it is
also a fatal inheritance, since in civilization the weakness
increases from generation to generation. If we want to face the
real truth about our constitution, we must acknowledge that we
belong to the number of those who suffer from a neurosis which
already has its roots in the past.
I think Gruby is right about such cases - to eat well, to
live well, to see little of women, in short to arrange one's
life in advance exactly as if one were...