A/N: Well, this hasn't been betaed. And it's my first attempt at "The Librarians." Jacob is kind of a geek, like me. So this is a geeky ficlet – that is completely historically accurate! Much research was done. And note minor Leverage cross-over; which makes me happy. Leverage is all kinds of awesome!
"The impacts of Vincent Van Gogh reach far beyond the modern art movement." Jacob sighed; he always hated writing the first few paragraphs of a paper. The roughneck, well former roughneck, knew exactly where this paper was going. It was going to be an analysis on the impacts of the evangelical religious movement on Van Gogh; and his impacts on the modern evangelical movement.
A few authors like Kathleen Powers Erickson had touched on it. She'd even done some pretty good analysis on the topic; her book, At Eternity's Gate: The Spiritual Vision of Vincent van Gogh, was well researched. What she didn't have though was Jake's access to the library's resources. There was a bit more to his acute asceticism that to be a friend of the poor like Jesus. Uncovering these tidbits and teasing them from the library had been interesting. Especially when you considered that he was doing it between library missions, on what little downtime they had.
Digging through the archives toward the front of the library; the artifacts associated with Vincent Van Gogh had been collected towards the end of the nineteenth century; and the beginning of the twentieth century. Jacob had been in heaven, it had been a big change from his work on the Pre-European Native American art.
It was fairly common knowledge that Vincent's father and grandfather had both been pastors, there had been a few minor artists in the family; but, most of the males tended towards religious pursuits. Vincent Van Gogh's father Theodorus had been a Dutch Reformed minister was not a good preacher. Jacob had found the text of some of his sermon's; and oh dear God they'd been boring. Actually, BORING was better phrasing. Instead Theodorus Van Gogh had made his name as a "welfare pastor" who distributed food and clothing to the poor.
As Van Gogh's views on religion evolved his use of color in his art changed. After he failed the seminary entrance exams, he began to spiral down into depression. The time he spent with Gauguin in 1888 in some ways helped delay his spiral downhill; but, when Gauguin threatened to leave that truly sent him Van Gogh into a slide which culminated in him cutting off his ear. Well, only a chunk of his lower ear.
Jacob's eyes were starting to spin from digging through the documents. And he was pretty sure that this section of the library hadn't been dusted in ages. Huh, he wondered if Charlene knew; or this was one of the sections that just wasn't high on the priority list. He knew that there were some special things that made most dusting not really necessary; but, even the magic that kept the library working didn't quite manage to hit all the nooks and crannies where the more obscure works were kept. Jacob could see the sense in it; Flynn's priorities were not 19th century artists, he tended more towards the ancients. And apparently the impacts of spiritualism on Vincent Van Gogh's art were not high priority for the library. And he could get why it wasn't. Ezekial would have been doing handstands off the shelves by now and throwing artifacts around if he'd been hanging around.
Rolling his shoulders, Jacob looked down at his watch. Clocks were in short supply in the library. In that way it was kind of like a casino. No natural light, no clocks, and something was always going on. Spending too much time in the library could really fuck with your circadian rhythms. Huh, it was almost six pm. Dinner time. Mmm…. Dinner, the Bridgeport Brewpub that his cousin Eliot was the executive chef had some amazing food. He really liked the chicken parmesan; not like his mama had made. That was for sure. But, mom's food was a lot more country cooking: Corn chowder, brisket, potatoes, creamed corn, fried okra, slow cooked green beans, … Pretty basic stuff. Tasty; but, basic. Eliot had taken food to a whole 'nother level. His travels with the Navy, and his other work had introduced him to some pretty interesting foods. And some very tasty food.
Jacob stood up for the first time in a few hours; and felt all his muscles cracking a popping. A signal that he'd been sitting too long pondering the fact that he's adopted many of Ernest Renan's philosophies, including the importance of being Christ-like in humility and servitude; had gotten lost in the veil of time. People now just concentrated on the fact that he did cool paintings and cut a chunk of his hear off.
Ummm… Chicken parmesan, extra sauce, and extra garlic bread. Luckily Eliot knew his preferences. So, all Jacob had to was pick up his research materials (and hope that the library didn't tell on him). And head out to the brew-pub for a taste of yumminess and a cold draft of beer. Eliot tended to be a little more on the craft beer movement than Jacob was; a cold Coors was more Jake's style. But, still the fancy beer that they brewed was good!
Now all he needed to do was escape: Eve, Cassandra, Ezekiel, and Jenkins. Sadly it would not be the former counter-terrorist operative that would be hard to avoid – it was Jenkins. That man had eyes EVERYWHERE!
E/N: And oh dear God – no one said how hard it was to write with a toddler in house!
