Monet’s Masterpieces: From Paris to Giverny

Standing in the oval rooms of the Musée de l’Orangerie in Paris, I felt as though I had stepped directly into Monet’s world. His monumental Water Lilies panels surrounded me—an endless horizon of soft blues, greens, and shimmering pinks that seemed to breathe with light. The sheer scale of the paintings drew me in, each brushstroke vibrating with color. I lingered in front of them, letting my eyes wander across the ripples, reflections, and floating blossoms.

As an oil portrait artist who often works in outdoor settings, I’ve always found Monet’s palette deeply inspiring. His ability to capture fleeting light and the dance of color in nature is something I strive for in my own work. Yet, even more than his paintings, I’ve long been captivated by the place that inspired them—his gardens at Giverny.

A few days later, we set out on a bicycle ride through the French countryside toward Giverny. The air was warm, scented with wildflowers, and the rolling fields seemed like a prelude to what awaited us. Arriving at Monet’s home, I felt as though I was stepping into one of his canvases—only this one was alive, buzzing with bees and softly swaying in the breeze.

The water garden, with its famous Japanese bridge draped in wisteria, was just as enchanting as I had imagined. Standing there, I could see the direct connection between life and art—the way the dappled light filtered through leaves, the way lily pads floated like tiny islands, each crowned with a bloom. In the distance, the pond mirrored the sky, shifting from green to blue to gold, just as Monet had painted it countless times.

The flower garden in front of his pink house was a kaleidoscope of color—rows of purple alliums, pale pink roses, and bursts of yellow irises. I’ve always seen my own garden as a living canvas, a place where I can paint with flowers. ferns, moss, waterfalls and a myriad of trees, shrubs and ground covers. But here, in Monet’s carefully orchestrated paradise, I saw the ultimate artist’s garden—a harmonious interplay of color, texture, and seasonality that could inspire a lifetime of work.

It was easy to imagine Monet stepping outside each morning, brush in hand, to capture the beauty just beyond his door. That sense of immediacy and intimacy with nature is something I hope to bring into my own paintings, allowing each piece to feel like a breath of fresh air.

Returning home, I found myself looking at my own garden differently. The hydrangeas seemed more luminous, the shadows more interesting, the air more alive with color. Monet’s world—both the painted and the planted—have greatly inspired me to create and capture beauty.  I was reminded that art and life are inseparable, and that a garden can be more than a space to enjoy. It can be a place to dream, to create, and to see the world in a whole new light.