My feeling towards Vincent Van Gogh is only minute in experience. My particular introduction in this lifetime was watching the film Loving Vincent - which attempted to tell the story of his life, as if through his paintings. Every frame of the film was painted over  - made by artists who adapted his techniques. I watched it twice in the cinema - and both times, upon leaving - had the experience of the docks outside the building, shimmering in the nighttime. Having sat through such a humble spectacle of colour, it definitely felt as if the world could be his paintings - or rather - that it was made up of minute wizzing particles of rainbow colour. It was appropriate for me to be introduced to him in this way - through the medium of film.

With that comes the caveat that my introduction to his story came through the subjective lens of the filmmaker - and as such my feeling towards him could not come purely from the medium he had chosen to be his communication to the world at large - his paintings. The characterisations in the film I found irritating – but there was enough of something else going on for it to have affected me. The story of Loving Vincent was weaved together through Doreta Kobiela having studied Vincent’s letters to his brother, Theo Van Gogh. It was enough to convey a strong feeling – most importantly, through his paintings (even though, they weren’t painted by him). They stuck with me - as did something else as a result of the storytelling – and that was of his uncomfortable reliance on his brother Theo, as being his Patron.

It was Theo’s financial support, which allowed Vincent to work as he did – but, from what I picked up from the film, it was a burden on his mindset. It feels that the psychological turmoil that must have occurred in Vincent – having not being able to sell his paintings – and as such, going un-recognised – was unwittingly intensified by needing to take the emotional and financial support from his brother. In essence – he did not need that permission, to enable his paintings to work through him. They were latent, within him. The life that occured for him, enabled the situation to come about – which both allowed for him to paint, whilst at the same time contributing to the deepening of the complex feelngs which he would then depict. Each affected the other. It sat powerfully with me that – almost in exact contrast to the beauty and genius of his work – society and it’s trends functioned in spite of it. Yet – through this friendship and trust with his brother – he was able to get on with what he needed to do to contribute to the society, whilst, becoming an outcast from it.

This word ‘Patron’, of course – rang alarmingly around my head when Mark Espir suggested I start a Patreon. My first recognition of the word, was in watching and being moved by the film, 5 years previously. And so, in that uncomfort, and with that encouragement - I moved towards re-arranging and presenting things which I had, although not given up on, just let lie. They are not Vincent Van Goghs paintings! But Mark Espir is a very vague semblance of a Theo. I guess that, the Moss Eat Sop Patreon – was – in its early stages, the scruffily written letters.