Starry starry night

Now I understand what you tried to say to me,

How you suffered for your sanity,

How you tried to set them free.

They would not listen, they did not know how…

Perhaps they’ll listen now…

Excerpt from Starry Starry Night @ Vincent, a song written by Don Mclean as a tribute to Vincent Van Gogh. An artist whose expressions, works were only appreciated after he committed suicide. Read more about his history here and the metaphors explored in this song here

It was my mother who introduced me to this song and Vincent Van Gogh. In fact she introduced me to a lot of artists from the Renaissance till the present era. Glad she did, as the old proverb goes, “The fruit does not fall far from the tree”. Art is something that I can love and can appreciate and am grateful for being able to indulge in and enjoy.


I developed a keen interest in drawing when I was like 4-5 years old and began drawing comics with my sister when we were in primary school. Most actively when I was in Standard 5 and Standard 6. I am not sure where have all those comics gone to. Probably thrown away or burnt.

Anyhow, most of the comics that I drew were based on people with superpowers. So I would read through the dictionary to look for words which would mean something powerful, bombastic-sounding and just pure awesome. As for my sister, she drew a bit of everything. Life, girlish stuff, superheroes, like I said, a bit of everything.

Oh how I wished I knew how to appreciate things when I was little. I would keep those treasures as it was an epitome of how close I was with my sister at that time. We would draw our comics together, discuss the storyline, or if we drew our comics separately, we would try to find a place where nobody could peek into each other’s work. Only trading them when we were finished.

Whenever I turned on my Sega Genessis, one of the must-play games was Sonic the Hedgehog and Miles. I would control Sonic, and she would be in charge of Miles. We would play for hours or until my mother’s nagging assaulted our ears. Really really good times were had by us.

When I went to boarding school, my mother told me, the first few weeks, she cried in her sleep, “Nak jumpa wawa, nak jumpa wawa..”. Such a beautiful bond.

Now that I think of it, man… it really grips you in that special place in your heart. How blessed we are to be given a choice to appreciate the existence of such phenomenon.

To remember and be remembered.

To love and be loved.

To understand and be understood.

To respect and be respected.

To crave and be craved.

To desire and be desired.

To appreciate and be appreciated.

Mr Vincent Van Gogh appreciated all the art that was around him, alas, nobody appreciated his intentions when he was around to enjoy such appreciation which came from a realization of how ignorant we used to be to the appreciable elements around us.

Salute to those who helped us appreciate.


p/s: My mother’s favourite Van Gogh’s drawing is The Sunflower.


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