I perhaps owe having become a painter to flowers.
My garden is my most beautiful masterpiece
The richness I achieve comes from nature, the source of my inspiration.
The light constantly changes, and that alters the atmosphere and beauty of things every minute.
My garden is a slow work, pursued with love and I do not deny that I am proud of it. Forty years ago, when I established myself here, there was nothing but a farmhouse and a poor orchard...I bought the house and little by little I enlarged and organized it...I dug, planted weeded, myself; in the evenings the children watered.
Pictures aren't made out of doctrines. Since the appearance of impressionism, the official salons, which used to be brown, have become blue, green, and red...But peppermint or chocolate, they are still confections.
Gardening was something I learned in my youth when I was unhappy. I perhaps owe having become a painter to flowers.
What I need most of all is color, always, always.
What could be said about me...a man to whom only his painting matters? And of course his garden and his flowers as well.
I work at my garden all the time and with love. What I need most are flowers, always. My heart is forever in Giverny.
My only desire is an intimate infusion with nature, and the only fate I wish is to have worked and lived in harmony with her laws.
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