Because there's just too much ugliness.

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

in the garden

Monet. Maybe one of the most famous painters of all time, certainly the most famous impressionist.
But there's a reason why:

Reading about Monet, I see he was the ultimate perfectionist. He wanted to know and be able to do everything:
"The further I go, the sorrier I am about how little I know: it is this that bothers me the most."

"Every day I discover more and more beautiful things. It's enough to drive one mad. I have such a desire to do everything, my head is bursting with it"
He loved nature, adored nature. Gardens, seas, and flowers brought him the very most joy in life, it seems:
"I would like to paint the way a bird sings."
He obsessed over color, fantasized and dreamed about colors:
" You'll understand, I'm sure that I'm chasing the merest sliver of color. It's my own fault. I want to grasp the intangible. It's terrible how the light runs out. Color, any color, lasts a second, sometimes 3 or 4 minutes at most..."
And painted his beautiful nature with all his color knowlege constantly, never stopping between one painting and another, for hours and days at a time. Still, he was never satisfied:
"I know well enough in advance that you'll find my paintings perfect. I know that if they are exhibited they'll be a great success, but I couldn't be more indifferent to it since I know they are bad, I'm certain of it."

I feel like I know exactly what he's talking about in my own life...but Monet himself couldn't be more wrong. These pieces are absolutely gorgeous.

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