i remember learning about the impressionists in 9th grade. what i remember loving about them was the stories behind them, so romantic and heartfelt. beautiful people who did what they loved (and some of whom were completely bonkers). i love those types of people.
i remember the thought striking me, when i was learning about monet (he's the one with the bad eyesight, right?) and the paintings that he did when he was old, and almost blind, of the pond, and the water lillies.. remember wondering if he was really doing impressionism, or realism. if he was painting it exactly as he saw it, could it really be impressionism? maybe to him, with his bad vision, it was a perfect photograph of what he saw?
that thought was one of those thoughts that you don't ever really get to find out about, but that makes you feel good wondering. i guess that's why i like monet so much.