Allright. I’m back from the hordes at Versailles that jammed into a four-foot wide door. I’m back from the acres of gardens that stretch farther than their horizon line. I’m rested up from many naps and dreams interrupted and started right back up again (one including shopping with my mom and being interrogated by Bill Murray) before waking to get to breakfast at Porte Didot. It’s been an exhaustion that I wish I was more grateful to have. All in all, getting poured on in the rain with TK twice in the past two days (once on our way to a Moroccan restaurant and once waiting just outside the Versailles gates) is a nice kind of letting go that I need.
Let me back up to last Wednesday to share another sweet moment of losing myself at the Musée de l’Orangerie.
Monet’s Water Lilies overwhelmed me with peace and wholeness in their unique presentation in the oval rooms of the Orangerie. Up close, messy and loose brush strokes don’t make sense, but I still love them. Far away, the whole picture comes into a vision of nature that I can understand. Yet in it sublimity, in Monet’s unique gestures, the paintings are far more about creation than representation. Far more about the infinite than the particular. Losing myself in them helps me lose my little perspective of things as they are according to me. Far away, things hold up together in a brilliant balance that I do not know with my eyes but with my heart.
cheesy, yes… but the colors! I couldn’t resist.
sitting like floating.