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January 7, 2016
Doing the museum slow-step through an endless crowd (!) at SAM, gathering in stunned clumps before each precious rectangle of genius. A few slashes of pink and yellow across a violet path and you look for the sun behind the trees. Life and loveliness burst from the rosy cheeked face of a young woman just about to say something. I want to touch the sparkly fuzz on three perfect peaches. You can even feel the wind that whips the flags on the ships in the harbor on a sunny summer day. Once again, the Impressionists make their impression on me.