In art as in life
always existed the same compassion.
Vincent did paint only for the others
because he was all theirs.
Anything else bothered his thought.
Anything else had no substance.
He knew society well,
so that he know what does societye want from him.
If life was omitted, art was absurd.
And if art was absurd, life was pointless.
The life of Vincent, was his work.
And his work, was all his life.
This is the reason why were the others,
the Humanity and time.