Insanity在vincent有生之年是普世给予的贬义标签，但是我感动于vincent的是无论任何时候他都会坚定地说：“I'm a painter”.所以我更愿意把这种疯狂解读为一个褒义词，它无不表达着vincent那份澄澈的对生命对艺术对信仰的热情和痴恋。于是“to be insane or not ?”还真的那么值得去争议吗？
To Autumn
Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,-
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft;
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
