His vantage point from the small window was enough that he could see several different buildings and the expanse of the wheat fields growing beyond. But there were days when he just stared unseeing out the window too ill to really even enjoy the view. His distinguished, yet haunted blue eyes were sunken into his thinning face. He didn’t have much of an appetite during his stay in the asylum and most days he ate only bread and soup.
Though painting was a calming past time, there were days that he wasn’t allowed to paint because of his compulsion to drink his turpentine and paints which would then add to the complications of his epilepsy and mental state. In spite of that, he managed to produce many paintings, and some of his most famous, during his stay at Saint-Paul.
When well enough he could wander the gardens, grounds and halls of the property and often these sites would find their way into his art. A long corridor echoed his depression with its cold, vacant, gray benches and darkened shadows cast throughout.
pleading, hollow, impassive
a master’s heartbeat
I used a senryu here rather than the traditional haiku.
This is Haibun Monday #3 over at dVerse Poets and Bjorn shares a painting by van Gogh to inspire us: http://dversepoets.com/2015/11/02/haibun-monday-3/