a Degas love affair

No one could possibly understand women better than Degas.  Not in the late 19th century anyway.  Movement so wonderfully executed in every meticulous stroke.  Degas knew the burden a woman carried.  So much of her existence a performance, this predisposition to protect, and mostly, an overwhelming sense of herself - a quiet storm.  I may be romanticizing his intentions.  Maybe he loved horses more (worked on them with the same fervor).  I just don't think it matters as I wasn't in his Parisian studio to witness the process - rubbing in the blue pastels... trying to lay still... not moving even a stroke.