Vincent Van Gogh, Head of Skeleton with a Burning Cigarette, 1886

The connection I established with this painting began long ago, as sweaty, shorter and shaggier- haired version of myself walked into the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam. As I walked around at a rather quick pace than that of my parents, I stumbled across this painting. Although I didn't really think about it as much as I have recently, I feel that I was drawn to it by similar reasons that still hold relevant to me. 

The idea of mortality and constant close proximity to death caught my eye. It really made me wonder what it meant to die and at what point that truly happened. The painting represents what we really are, just a set of bones and parts assembled into one, and the fact that it is truly up to the person to make more of that simple composition and determine what we mean and who we are. As I continue my course through high-school, I have had to think about what I will have to make of myself, and how to avoid being more than just a skeleton to not only others but also, most importantly, myself. 

Regardless of determining this, the bleak coloration and rigid skeleton and use of the burning cigarette make death feel omnipresent, and it is up to one's self to resolve what it means to avoid this end. Despite this, I feel that the presence of death should be approached as motivation and provide aspirations, rather than be painful and take away life long before it is over.