Perspective Book

The first painting that touched me after my four-year incense-induced visual blur in the convent was one of Monet's Waterlilies, which I saw up close on a freeing trip all alone to New York City. I stood in front of Monet's dreamscape and, not knowing, reached and touched its texture with my forefinger. A guard zipped over and kindly let me know to never, ever do that. I understood -- this was a holy object. But even now I am seared to Monet.

I got this children's introduction to the great Impressionist for a student I tutor. He was not impressed. But I -- and then my husband -- read it through and would be browsing still, but we've reached our nine-week library limit. So much is here, all in snippets: sketchbooks, biography, artistic development. His glasses, with one lens blank for the blind eye and the other one green.

I will remember how Monet dabbed with a wide brush to make waves, how he created a vertical grid of trees, how he brought to life the undulating underwater plants, how he created a pale rowboat with nobody inside.