I think it’s safe to say that I’ve really run the clock on this story since it has now been an entire year since we went to Paris. But, who is keeping track?
Giverny is Monet’s home in the countryside outside of Paris. If you want to see extraordinary examples of his work, go to Musee d’Orsay or L’Orangerie. But it is here where you can see his Japanese-inspired Water Garden: the water lilies, the willow trees and the bridges that he so famously painted.
To get to Giverny, you have to take a car, because it is about an hour’s drive outside of the city. Once you get to the true countryside, to the world of small villages and hay fields, tiny creeks and winding roads, you are there.
It’s all very transporting.
Mom accused me of taking photos of her butt as we wandered the town and gardens. I would dispute that as being not entirely accurate. For whatever reason, on this particular day in France, the only thing I actually wanted to take photos of was my mother. To me, she was the most beautiful thing. And yes, Mom, if you are reading this, of all of the things in Monet’s gardens you were my favorite.
I’m sure that when spring isn’t MIA and everything is in bloom, it is quite lovely. But instead, I did my best to take snaps of the few flowers blooming on the entirety of the grounds.
Some people say the light is different. When Marcus got the chance to look over some of the snaps I took of the willows and the water, he could not believe that the water and the sky were not switched.
It truly was just like that. I have never been of the particular belief that seeing an artist’s subject matter will bring any sort of great clarity to viewing their work. That being said, seeing the light on the water was not something I could have possibly even imagined.
It was a different piece of art entirely.
Au revoir, Giverny.