Van Gogh Is Bipolar

“Prost!” a guy on a black shirt smiled as he raised a test tube of vodka inviting us to his house.
Then he turned away and locked himself in the kitchen.

It was our lucky day to catch him blissful, that meant he would cook food and we would have our dinner.
Van Gogh is Bipolar, a restaurant, opens only when he, the owner, feels like opening it. Reservation is a must but not guaranteed.
If you wanna try a dish, sorry, but the owner (who is also the chef) cooks only what he wants to.
But you can choose among 3, 4 or 5 happy or chill set meals.
Happy is fish based and chill, meat based.
Strictly 12 dinners can stay indoors.
If you’re one of them, leave your shoes outside, with your inhibitions, and that was just the first house rule.

The others were:
1. Stupids and Idiots are welcome.
2. NO SERVERS HERE. If you need anything, just ring the kitchen bell.
3. Please see the menu & write your name, orders on paper provided.
4. For tea drinkers: Make your own tea.
5. After eating, kindly place soiled dishes at the kitchen window.
6. Place your payment in a red cash box, get your own change as well.
7. Carve your name on the tea bar or scribble your darkest secrets in the dark room.

The last rule was my favorite. 'Walked in the psychedelic room and read others’ secrets that were no different from reading EP lust confessions, except that those were handwritten with texture, colors & emotions enough to awaken goosebumps all ovah! Its interior was both jagged and neat. I read a marriage proposal on one side –and wedding invite on the other. Angst and fear words were highlighted, but the words of desire outshone them.
I guess I was zoning out as I didn’t noticed the guy coming from my side, he was murmuring words so I had to lean closer and ask about it.

“The pages are full, mind if I share the secrets with you instead?”
Handed him my paper-- with my name on it.
Fine, why am I always such an easy prey?

There are hats and hairdressers to wear during your stay, I chose a black Victorian style.

The superb meal sets contain mind altering mixture (researched by the chef-owner himself) to cheer the depressed (Courtney Love’s Potion Drink), to relax the anxious (Virginia Woolf’s Tears Soup - my favorite!), and to encourage the fearful (Mel Gibson’s Darkest Sin - choclit' with walnut as a chaser of a test tube absinth shot). Some dish are the most expensive and of the rarest kind, like the brown mountain rice.
Be prepared to be treated like a princess and a slave at the same time.

The main dish that I had was untitled salmon since it was created first time that night.
Who wouldn't feel special tasting something no one has ever tried yet?
That fish with no name is simply fantastic!

I wasn’t sure though if the inducing ingredients worked for me and my friends that night.
We were ecstatic already even before we went in – only because that was a Friday.

Once in a while, the chef-owner would hang out with us on our table to share stories from all the places he has gone to. He pointed the paintings hung and bragged he only discovered he could paint two years ago, during the 36 hour train ride in Mongolia where his friend lent him some tools. He also shared how difficult and painful it is to be clinically diagnosed as bipolar.

“It was a curse that I can never run away from,” he mused.
He confessed that hallucinations and real voices to him were all at the same audio level making it hard for him to tell one from the other. There were times that he would feel his tummy aching because he didn't eat the whole day, but to his mind he cooked and finished his plate and even burped for he was full. These are but some of the confessions he squealed not to be pitied at but to share his comfort to other bipolars, manics, psychotics and the like.

Van Gogh is Bipolar is a place that embraces differences and eccentricities.
You may find it hard to eat there if see yourself invulnerable.

Before leaving, I noticed a book below the tea bar to which he said was published.
It was a postcard book compiled from all the shots he took around the world.

“Oh! I am not only bipolar, I am also a travel photographer,” he laughed  at his forgetfulness. 
He explained to me with gusto the composition & the moods he had at the time he took the photos.
Fresh and vivid as if he has just taken the shots earlier that morning.

“You can keep it while you’re here but it’s actually for sale,” he sheepishly remarked.
“Will you sign it if I buy it?” I asked.
He took the book from my hand and sealed it with a “Bipolar” seal.
Then he wrote thanks in 4 different languages over his signature.
“You’re welcome,” I beamed.
You are and always will. 
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Jan 6, 2013