“He’s like fire and ice and rage. He’s like the night and the storm in the heart of the sun. He’s ancient and forever. He burns at the centre of time and can see the turn of the universe. And… he’s wonderful.”
This is the middle of Van Gogh’s greatest year of painting. If we’re not careful, the net result of our pleasant little trip will be the brutal murder of the greatest artist who ever lived. Half the pictures on the wall of the Musée d’Orsay *snaps fingers* will disappear. And it will be our fault.