“I take it,” the artist found himself saying.
“Then this is for you.”
The man thrusted into the artist’s hand a shabby brochure titled, ‘Flower Care Guide’.
“And here’s another thing,” the man said, rising. “If you decide to get rid of it, don’t just throw it away but come here and give it to someone.”
The care of Van Gogh was indeed a demanding job. Firstly, the flower did not tolerate dust. The artist’s studio, where he slept, ate, drank, and occasionally did some painting, was in a dire state of neglect. Now he had to throw out trash and do a thorough wet cleaning.
The room had to be constantly aired, but without overcooling.
And – the light. Van Gogh required a lot of light, so all the windows had to be washed.
In the bright light, the painter saw anew his creations of the recent years. He felt dismay, struck by his own professional and artistic degradation.
Luckily, he had no time to grieve over that, his mind full of concerns about Van Gogh.
The flower could be watered with pure spring water only. The guide contained a warning that there was a lot of counterfeits on sale, and instructions on how to test the quality of the product. Finally, with difficulty, the painter found genuine spring water. Once he started using it on Van Gogh, the flower revived noticeably, its color getting brighter. The painter took a sip of that water himself, and he liked it. From then on, he drank it constantly.
The leaves required spraying and the soil required the application of fertilizers strictly according to the list – phosphate, nitrate, potash, and a dozen other chemicals.
But the main problem was the mysterious gravicola. The brochure said, “Once a week, introduce 40 drops of gravicola to the soil at the base of the stalk.”
There was no indication as to what in the world that gravicola was, and where it could be found. The web florist sites returned no answers.
After a week, the gravicola-deprived Van Gogh began drooping and wilting, even shedding its leaves.
The artist went to the market and started harassing the old ladies who were selling cactuses and geraniums. The old ladies shook their heads and shrugged in bewilderment.
“Hey, wait! Did you say ‘gravicola?’”
Beside another old lady, an unshaven guy in a jacket with a NASA chevron was sitting. An astronaut.