What a long day it’s been. I stumbled across an 1875 cityscape done by Renoir, titled “The Great Boulevards.” There is blue everywhere I look, from sky to building outlines to shadows. There is a horse-drawn carriage strolling by, bright and purposeful. There are people everywhere; the little ones closest to me are trailing after their mother whilst the two gentlemen glance around before resuming their banter. It could be the end of a spring afternoon or the beginning of the twilight hour. Maybe they are making their way home or thinking of a night at the parlor houses. Some may be contemplating the thought of spending their Saturday night holed up when they could be at their friends’ dinner parties. What do I know? I only came across this scene today.

It’s just so bright. So lovely to look upon. I’m staring at the figure sitting by the lamp post and I feel… softer somehow. I hear the chattering of the faraway crowd and it is almost like a humming of sorts. The trees are full of color and I think it must be fall. Then there is the entire canvas itself when I step back. It’s a canvas of swaying strokes, moving with the wind in perfect still life. And then I think of how much I like this, how soothing it feels against my perspiring brow, its coolness washing away my day-long weariness. I think of what I know as everything but what is here in this painting. I might have always known. But that is why I love this so. Yes, I think I have come to love it.


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