Several summers ago I visited Monet’s house in Giverny – it was jammed with other pilgrims and as we snaked our way through the garden in a sluggish fashion because it was too hot and too crowded, any notions of seeing what Monet might have seen were dashed. It was the same inside the house, except for one little quiet spot I found, cool and shady, with an open window looking out onto the riotous garden.
I am still working out the painting I want to make of that scene but this is something in between. It was initially painted in acrylics, quickly and intuitively, and without the usual painstaking planning (which often leads me nowhere anyway), then finished more leisurely in oils. I might tweak it more but at the moment it feels ready.
Who knew it would take so long to get an initial thought on to canvas?