'Portrait of a Peasant', 1888
Visiting Van Gogh. The Revolution turned everyone into
citizens with rights, turned everyone overnight away from being humans being
enabled to learn divinity. Equality, fraternity. June became, briefly, Prairial
and, briefly, Messidor. Broad brushstrokes, it’s true, all broad brushstrokes,
but that’s the painter’s business, broad brushstrokes. What’s a full-blooded
human to do with robots? Holding the microchip of future desire in their
artificial digits? When we could be painting sunflowers all over the flat
surfaces, handing them back empty-handed. Revolution, you say. Divinity, you
say. Brushstrokes, you say. Desire, you say. Sunflowers, you say. Time to get
back to work.
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