It’s even too easy, looking at a field of wheat under a stormy and nicely menacing sky, thinking of Vincent Van Gogh and his desperate paintings

I hope to capture also some crowds here, but they disappointed my expectation.

I wonder why storms can be so appealing, maybe because they are a natural metaphor of the turmoil of our inner feelings, our confused nature which is also so exuberantly rich in all its nuances.
So many artists were tormented and restless beings and this banal ascertainment necessarily leads to another broader question:

How can we deal with the gap that exists often between moral values and creative talent in human beings?

Would we appreciate more a person without any genius or artistic talent, but who is rich of good feelings, humanity, serenity and kindness or an extraordinary artistic and creative skill which coexists in the same body with a miserable and selfish or even corrupted nature?

Would we extrapolate and admire only the work of geniality without being influenced by the flaws or the fault of a less perfect nature for what is related to common daily life and relationship with others?

There are exceptions, of course in both sides, but exceptions, as they say, are there only to confirm rules.