
The day I met Van Gogh (again), and what it taught me about making honest art
Two days ago, I was back in the National Gallery in London. The Impressionist rooms were packed, people drifting like tides in front of Monet, and I made a beeline to say hello to Degas’ dancers. That gorgeous pastel Ballet dancers stopped me in my tracks: velvet-soft light, movement caught mid-breath. Stunning.





