Prologue

"Light. Light. Light.”

Arrival at the Hotel Baudy

“I am not one of the 350 artists who visited Giverny on the eve and at the dawn of the twentieth century. Some of who returned to America…to Old Lyme. Bringing with them a new and magnificent form of painting. I am not one of them. I am all of them.”

Morning Wakes

“Oh, the air of Giverny. Claude Monet has a fine studio and garden about five minutes walk from here. It has a large high wall about it.”

A Stroll to the Country

“This country is charming; quite one’s ideal of what French country should be in fact. On the left, the hills rise up steep and high; on the right, the meadows stretch out to the Seine.”

From Hillside to Meadow

"Oh, Madame, I didn’t see you there. Bonjour. I thought she was a rock.
Beyond the river the distant hills lie
blue and purple in the summer air. The wheat fields beside the road are full of vivid scarlet poppies, with here and there a dash of blue cornflowers. Everywhere there is a stillness, a calm,
a perfect peace…Giverny itself is a little village lying a happy valley."

Pastoral Revelry

"An egg. Beautiful. Tiny grey flecks. This is most certainly the egg of a blackbird. Yes, I hear you Mr. Blackbird. We will move away from your nest.
Thank you for this precious gift. It is the first I have found in Giverny.
Mr. Metcalf I would like for you to have this egg. I insist."

Upon His Muse in Open Air

“It is difficult to imagine that anyone could capture this picturesqueness; old style or new. The manner and position in which she stands is in harmony with all that is around her…immersed in a reverie facilitated by stillness.But, why cannot I not find it? The color is too grey. It does not give the effect of sunlight. The light. It is ‘impossible’ to find the light!”

After Dinner and Wine

“I am not drunk. I am inspired. Inspiration is sometimes mistaken for drunken as it is immeasurably pleased with itself and cannot therefore be persuaded to be any thing else.  Have I told you of my new friend? No, not Claude Monet. I have not met him yet. A peasant girl who I met in a field pointed out to me by Mr. Dessar. I find her lovely. I should like to paint her by a mill or at the river Epte. Try my hand at light upon water.”

Dare to be Naïve – In Open Air

“Try to forget what objects you have before you, a tree, a house, a field. Merely think, here is a little square of blue, here an oblong pink, here a streak of yellow, and paint it just as it looks to you. The exact color and shape, until it gives your own naïve impression of the scene before you.”

"The impasse of painting en plein air. Mrs. Cabot Perry, your canvas! The
rain will wash the light away. Yes, we would not encounter this difficulty
if we painted indoors. Some have already chosen to do so I believe, is it
true? Will you take dinner with me at the Baudy? This evening they will
serve a local variation of Boston baked beans. Wonderful! Mrs. Cabot Perry,
your hat!"

The Light Within – In Open Air

“My best intentions continue to be hampered by the illusiveness of the light.”

Peace of Mind – In Open Air

“Why is it that the light will not grace my canvas? My tube paints are intense. My brushes—new. My canvas—my tools are fitting…light, light, light.”

A Morning of Fog and Sun

“The diversion of the river for his personal garden.  Madness. One cannot move a river for one’s liking. I will speak to your master. At which house do you work? La Maison du Pressoir. The Cider-press house! The home of Monet!”

A Morning of Fog and Sun

"Oh, good morning. What are you doing here? Such a grey face. I will dance
for you and when I am finished you will want to hug me."

Monet’s Garden

“’La nature ne s’arrete pas!’” Nature never stops.”

Affection for a Country

“Of the painting Mr. Monet said, ‘He paints with the broad strokes of his countryman. Perhaps he should return and capture that fine country with such broad strokes.’ Some day, Mr. Monet may visit your country and you will find him peeking over your garden wall. I adore your painting and I will keep it and the memory of our time together close to my heart. When you return, think of me, in that light.”

Old Lyme

“Nature never stops. How can one finish a painting when nature never stops? How can one capture the light when it is always moving? I will never ‘capture’ the light. One cannot ‘hold’ the light but rather, only ‘behold’ it.”