(New York Times) – The painting beckoned me from across the room. In a bright, high-ceilinged gallery of the Courtauld, a small museum in London known for its collection of Impressionist and Post-Impressionist art, I moved past van Gogh’s “Self-Portrait With Bandaged Ear,” beyond Degas’s dancers and Seurat’s fisherman, straight to a small Monet titled “Vase of Flowers.” I stood before it and felt my breath slow. My husband walked over to me. I wanted him to understand. “This is the way I see now,” I said quietly. (Read More)