What does art mean?

Do you understand my friends? Vincent Van Gogh, despite his illness, became a great artist and breathed life into his paintings with his experiences and thoughts! And do you want to know why I am grateful to him? I am grateful to him for allowing us to see his world from his point of view in his paintings. Probably he would never have thought that he would later go down in art history.'' While I pronounce the first sentences with a tremendous force, I only breathe the last one, but I am sure that everyone has heard me.I look up and see before me a large crowd of people who have come to the "Van Gogh Museum" in Amsterdam today, July 29. Today is the anniversary of Van Gogh's death. And they have also come to see me, because I am not just a storyteller, I am Henry deLuca.I've been booked by several museums for many months now to talk about the greatest artists and architects who ever lived. There would be the Louvre in Paris and Botticelli's "Venus" in Florence in Italy. But my favorite artist will always be Vincent Van Gogh whose paintings are in the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam. And when I got a request from this museum 1 week ago, I could not stand again. I look to the people who came today and was surprised to see many tears running. Van Gogh's story is now really not a sugar bite.And if I may tell you something else, my friends, you should know something about the greatest people, no matter if they are artists, architects or etc.. Many of them had bad experiences or were cast out. And ... what I want to say is that the people who are still in our memories today and are in history books had to survive one or more bad things so that they then became geniuses,'' I finally say, ending my lecture on Vincent Van Gogh.The crowd is silent for the first time. And this silence is suddenly interrupted by a clap at the door. My gaze flies there and beholds ... my God! There stands a young woman, I guess around 19, looking at me with one blue and one green eye. I have never met anyone who has 2 different eye colors. Her hair is the color of liquid bronze and her skin is as white as a sheet of paper. She is beautiful!She is still clapping until the whole crowd starts clapping and jeering. I barely manage to take my eyes off her, but I do. I look at the crowd, smile slightly and bow. I guess the crowd likes that and they start clapping even louder and I start laughing. --A few minutes later, I am talking to an older couple who, like me, are avid fans of Van Gogh. "So we like the painting 'The Plain of Auvers' a lot. And which is your favorite work?" the elderly lady asks me, meaning by ''us'' her and her husband. Each of his works is a masterpiece and tells a story, but I must be honest. Starry Night" is my favorite of his works," I say after a few seconds of thinking.Me and the older couple talk some more until they say they have to go now. We say goodbye and I take another look at the crowd looking at his works while talking. Before I get back to raving about Van Gogh, a beautiful and gentle voice snaps me out of my thoughts: That was wonderful, Mr. deLuca! I was truly not the only one whose eyes rested on your lips.''I quickly flash around me to see the eyes of different eye colors. She is still there! When I didn't see her several minutes ago, I thought she had left.After taking a few seconds to calm my excitement, I say: "Thank you, Miss...? "My name is Rose Shepherd."Such a beautiful name for such a beautiful woman. I smile and offer her my hand. As she reaches out her hand as well and our hands touch, lightning bolts shoot through my body solely from her touch. I look up from our hands to Rose's face only to see that she has also looked up at our slopes. She is now looking up as well. My eyes glance at her lips, so soft and perfectly rounded. I notice that her eyes are also looking at my lips.Before I do anything, she asks me: I would like to look at Van Gogh's works with you. Do you have the time and inclination?But of course. I am interested in your opinion. And maybe we would prefer to be on a first-name basis," I asked hesitantly after a few seconds. She nods with a smile and pulls me across the room to the first picture.We walk and talk, not noticing that an hour has already passed when we come to a stop in front of "Starry Night. Before I say that this is my favorite work of his and why, she says: Of all his great and incredible works, this is my favorite!