Crows gather all kinds of things in their nests. They like shiny objects or whatever strikes their fancy. I, too, like to gather a variety of things, but unlike a crow, I like to share what I find, as well as what I create myself.
“People observe the colors of a day only at its beginnings and ends, but to me it’s quite clear that a day merges through a multitude of shades and intonations with each passing moment. A single hour can consist of thousands of different colors. Waxy yellows, cloud-spot blues. Murky darkness. In my line of work, I make it a point to notice them.” — Markus Zusak, The Book Thief
Claude Monet - The Water-Lily Pond 1899, 88 x 92 cm.
“Monet moved to Giverny in 1883. In 1893 he acquired a small pond and created a water garden with an arched bridge in the Japanese style, copied from a print that hung in his dining room. In 1899, when the vegetation of the water garden was at its most luxuriant, he began a series of views across the pond to the arching bridge. Here the garden is shown in slanting summer afternoon light, in cool harmonies of green and mauve balanced by bright yellow reflections and vivid red and white water lilies.”
An image of Claude Monet in his garden in Giverny with an unidentified visitor. From The New York Times photo archive, dated only 1922, author not given (the image presumably in a Times December 24, 1922 profile on the painter).
“Damn!” Said Monet, or Something Like It: Then He Drove His Fist Through a “Genuine Claude Monet” Which He Had Painted Before He Learned How
Printed in ARTnews magazine on October 15, 1921
PARIS - The great impressionist patriarch, Claude Monet, has just been giving artists and speculators a lesson.
A short time back a dealer visited the master at his country home with a picture under his arm painted by Monet in the far-off days when he was under the influence of Courbet. he wanted M. Monet’s own identification of the work. The latter examined it carefully and then, with an oath, drove his fists through it.
“It is by me, all right,” he said, “but I did it at a time when I knew nothing.”
The dealer, disturbed, cried: “I paid a lot of money for it - at least for the signature.”
“Perhaps you would be very good as to exchange it for another? The venerable man pointed to his walls. “Choose,” said he, indifferently, and so the dealer did.
When he had left with his prize under his arm a friend, who had attended the interview, said to Claude Monet: “But that is what the man was after all the time. Why did you pay into his hand?”
To which Monet retorted: “I quite saw that. But the chief thing is to keep the pictures which are not worthy of me out of the market, I should like to be wealthy enough to buy all my inferior work and to destroy it afterwards.”