I saw Edouard Vuillards Repast in a Garden for the first time years and years ago.
I was maybe twenty-five years old.
I remember standing in the National Gallery and staring at that light, at the people gathered around the table, at the magic circle of it all, and thinking: there is where I want to be.
This past weekend, as I went from table to table, from garden to garden, from one lighted room to another, I thought about Vuillards painting a lot.
And what I thought was this: here I am, whe...