How a bad date turned into an important lesson on Van Gogh and creativity

About a year ago, I visited the Houston Museum of fine arts with a girl I'd never met before. It was our first date, and, much more importantly, my first time seeing a Van Gogh painting. She was a nice girl, but it's Van Gogh. Gotta keep my priorities straight. I love art, especially post-impressionism, so this was a dream come true for me. And the night did not disappointment. When I left the exhibit, I was only sure of one thing: The art I saw was special, like really special. Not long after leaving, I went with the girl, and her sisters to this Greek place in Montrose called Niko Nikos. Yeah, I said her sisters. It was a chaperoned date. After they finished eating, the girl and her family left me at the restaurant waiting for my Uber—thinking hard if I liked her enough to go on a second date. I've learned since if you have to ask that question, the answer is a NO. So, unfortunately, the art of the Dutch master temporarily took a 5 in the thinking space of my mind (playing the dating will do that shit to you). Later that week, the girl and I went on one other date (unchaperoned). Since then, I've gone on many more dates with the other person I was with: Vincent Van Gogh.

Going through the exhibit, you step inside the brain of a tortured genius. Where you find Van Gogh's art visualizes what he was thinking about during his life. The dark tones of his early work, to the brilliant expressional use of color, and the speckled texture that flows right out of the frame.

Most of what I just said has already been talked about a gazillion times by artsy people over the decades. I, however, discovered something unexpected when I saw Van Gogh's work in person. I felt an indescribable emotional feeling. Particularly when viewing his later work, the pieces he created towards the tail end of his life. Often when you look at art, you feel something unexplainable. But there's always a reason for it, primarily because the artist intended there to be a reason. In his case, Van Gogh's primary tool was color or color combination. Every photographer, painter, graphics designer, or anyone that creates visual art knows that specific colors look better together than others. But Van Gogh desired to use these combinations to their maximum potential. Eventually, he became a master of, and perhaps the greatest at utilizing color for his works.

While this is historically impressive, it's not the profound thing I discovered at the exhibit. I guess I'll finally tell you...

What I discovered was Van Gogh's mindset. His art was enjoyable, but it was the way he was creative that impacted me the most.

The Dutch master's legacy, to me, is more than that of the confused, disturbed artist. He was an outsider. I understand that to a tee. As someone who writes takes photos and takes part in pretty much any creative pursuit, you can think of. I know what it's like for people to tell me my work needs this or doesn't have that, essentially saying what I'm making doesn't fit in with what is being made today. Not that I, or other misfits, will become as famous as Van Gogh. We probably won't. But the thing is, we have the Dutch master as a creative mascot, someone to look up to for hope. Artists like Kanye West, Joaquin Phoenix and many others are the modern-day Van Goghs who, unlike the painter, are appreciated during their lives. As people of a rigid society we tend to criticize difference as a whole. Van Gogh's art teaches us otherwise.

During his life, Van Gogh's innovative art was met with criticism. Believe it or not, at many points in his life, he even had a hard time selling his art to collectors, who are now paying some of the highest prices in history for one his paintings. It's a success story for people who depart from society and receive credit for breaking its rules. This is the story for so many artists and writers of history. Even today we still see it happening to creators. Rapper Lizzo produced songs that didn't become famous until 2019, or two years after their initial release.

Meanwhile, Van Gogh's work took years after his death; they were selling for the 10s of millions of dollars they do today. A few art lovers of his day recognized his genius, but the majority of the art world was just like "meh." This mediocre response to his art is what makes Van Gogh's story so inspiring.

It begs the question: "So what you're different?" Go out and do it anyway. When Van Gogh began getting serious about portraiture, he wrote to his sister that he wished to communicate the subjects emotions through colors instead of realism. This statement is a microcosm of Van Gogh's perception of art. The color was everything. This attitude made his paintings unique and, in my opinion, some of the greatest of all time. I learned a lot from seeing that vision in his paintings: not so much the technique, but the mindset he had through the later part of his career. To veer off from the way others were painting, and to create pieces he believed were the most beautiful.

While he was studying art around Europe, Van Gogh's teachers would tell him that his work wasn't up to modern-day snuff. In response, he would refuse to change his style, give them a big eccentric FU, and go to a different school. By refusing to listen to his instructors, Van Gogh taught us something very important about creativity; that being creative is about breaking the rules, not following them. I'm not saying you should pick fights with your teachers and mentors. I've learned so much from the many incredible people who have taught me their techniques on photography, writing, and other arts. But don't listen to them if they're telling you to follow the rules. That's more than likely a sign you're doing something right. And maybe, if you're lucky, something great. This principle is a lesson for every creator. A lesson Van Gogh gives us the ones who aren't all there, a hope that one day, just maybe, our crazy ideas might be appreciated for being different from the others. His daring art pieces showed me the colors of hope, and, with much brightness, that anything is possible no matter what people say. Perhaps they don't understand, or maybe you suck. But who knows, one day, one day, someone might like your shit after you're dead.