This pastel drawing of a woman drying herself, was made by Edgar Degas sometime in the late 19th Century. I can imagine Degas picking up the sticks of pastel, feeling their powdery texture. The marks are so immediate, so human. A blend of ochres, pinks, and browns suggest the figure emerging from the background. He’s not trying to be perfect, just trying to capture a fleeting moment. I think of Bonnard, another painter of intimate, domestic scenes. They are both trying to express the simple beauty of everyday life, but through different lenses. In the end, it doesn't matter who did it first or best. What matters is that we keep looking, keep learning, keep pushing the boundaries of what painting can do. It’s an exchange, a conversation across time and space.
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