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Even though I visited the permanent collections at numerous occasions, I had the feeling of looking at Monet's murals for the first time. Surrounded by the quiet water sometimes shivering, sometimes dazzling under a ray of sun, and the water lilies floating among willow branches caressing the pond, relishing the blues, greens, pinks, yellows, it was like viewing a poem in colors. I walked along the paintings, back and forth, "in" and "out". Immersed in the monumental compositions, filled with awe, I forgot tourists and time. Contemplating nature distilled by the painter, I reached a calming, deep spiritual state.
Each experience is different and mine was nothing compared to Stendhal's ecstasy while visiting Santa Croce: " I had reached that point of emotion where the heavenly sensations of the fine arts meet passionate feelings. As I emerged from Santa Croce, I had palpitations...., the life went out of me and I walked in fear of falling."
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How could I have missed so much all these years? Jaded by too many reproductions of the Water Lilies on umbrellas, coffee mugs, calendars, ..., too many poorly displayed Nympheas in museums, I had given up on seeing them. It took that special day to discover, in Monet's words, the "illusion of an endless whole, of a wave with no horizon and no shore".
photographs by the author
"Water Lilies" (details) at the Musée de l'Orangerie
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