That poem is rather lovely, Moose. That link is useful, Jez, although the
images didn’t load for me.
I’ve visited his house at Giverny and it is a beautiful place; we stayed not
far away, on the river at Les Andelys, a place on the apex of a meander of the
Seine. It was a thoroughly peaceful and restful place to be.
Chris
(I do hate the term “back story”, though. “Background” was useful enough and
less ugly.)
> On 27 Jan 16, at 22:13, Jez Cunningham <jez@xxxxxxxxxxxxxx> wrote:
>
> The back story is equally fascinating...
> http://psych.ucalgary.ca/PACE/VA-Lab/AVDE-Website/Monet.html
>
>
> On 27/01/2016, Moose <olymoose@xxxxxxxxx> wrote:
>> Monet Refuses the Operation
>>
>> Doctor, you say that there are no halos
>> around the streetlights in Paris
>> and what I see is an aberration
>> caused by old age, an affliction.
>> I tell you it has taken me all my life
>> to arrive at the vision of gas lamps as angels,
>> to soften and blur and finally banish
>> the edges you regret I don't see,
>> to learn that the line I called the horizon
>> does not exist and sky and water,
>> so long apart, are the same state of being.
>> Fifty-four years before I could see
>> Rouen cathedral is built
>> of parallel shafts of sun,
>> and now you want to restore
>> my youthful errors: fixed
>> notions of top and bottom,
>> the illusion of three-dimensional space,
>> wisteria separate
>> from the bridge it covers.
>> What can I say to convince you
>> the Houses of Parliament dissolve
>> night after night to become
>> the fluid dream of the Thames?
>> I will not return to a universe
>> of objects that don't know each other,
>> as if islands were not the lost children
>> of one great continent. The world
>> is flux, and light becomes what it touches,
>> becomes water, lilies on water,
>> above and below water,
>> becomes lilac and mauve and yellow
>> and white and cerulean lamps,
>> small fists passing sunlight
>> so quickly to one another
>> that it would take long, streaming hair
>> inside my brush to catch it.
>> To paint the speed of light!
>> Our weighted shapes, these verticals,
>> burn to mix with air
>> and changes our bones, skin, clothes
>> to gases. Doctor,
>> if only you could see
>> how heaven pulls earth into its arms
>> and how infinitely the heart expands
>> to claim this world, blue vapor without end.
>>
>> - Lisel Mueller
>>
>>
>> --
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