The post I am working on for Friday to mark the death of Camille Pissarro in 1903 reminded me of this post I did six and half years ago. I took the photograph in the hallway of an old converted house in Cambridge, MA – I was helping a friend of mine move out of the attic apartment. The light was just like that, pouring through a circular window at top of the stairs. Mueller’s poem came almost immediately to mind; this post is still one of my favorite very early ones from my blog. To read Mueller’s whole poem, go here.
Illustrated Poetry 
I love the photo and the poem. Thanks, Marcy!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Monet tried all kinds of things for his vision. I remember particularly the special spectacles. I think he finally did have the surgery though. Beautiful photo. (K)
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Kerfe! I looked it up and they removed the lens of his right eye in 1923 – it seems so barbaric now, with all the treatments and laser surgeries we have for eye diseases, but apparently that plus specially designed glasses did improve his vision.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I would even be reluctant to have surgery now. Although with my cataracts, eventually I’ll need it.
LikeLike
I agree – the thought of surgery on the eyes is especially difficult for me. I always had to turn away whenever they showed eye surgery or eye procedures on medical shows on TV.
LikeLiked by 1 person