Artnotes Italy Daily

Saturday, April 16, 2011

 Senate sketch Luxembourg Gardens   Blair PESSEMIER   Oil on linen 18 x 21.5 inches
 Lilacs  Laurie Fox PESSEMIER   Acrylic on canvas  24 x 12 inches  SOLD
 Chestnuts in blossom   Laurei Fox PESSEMIER   Acrylic on wood  20 x 7 inches
Grandfather and child    Laurie Fox PESSEMIER   Acrylic on wood  10 x 8 inches

Artnotes: a Job to Live


“It’s our job to go on living,” a dear friend of mine told me not so long ago.  Her sagesse came from years of sadness about the early demise of her parents, when she was barely a teenager.  She used to spend hours at my house, around my own mom and dad, perhaps living vicariously with my family.  It was with this wisdom in mind I just left my own mother, dying, in Connecticut.
When I left Paris on 22 March, there was just a hint of spring with daffodils and tree buds; on Thursday, 14 April, a canopy of green covered the park.  To Harika’s delight I insisted on sitting on a bench in the park when we alighted the train at Luxembourg Gardens.  (she came to the airport to meet me!)  The chestnuts are in blossom.  My azalea tree on the balcony is past full bloom and my jasmine has flowers.  I’ve red and yellow roses.
The gypsies are in the market, bearing lilacs.  Aromatic in tones of purple and violet a large floral bouquet sits in the center of my living room.  I am so happy to be home.
I spent three weeks in the US, apart from my dog, and mostly apart from my husband, who was visiting his own mother and then returned to Paris.   I spent a week at High Point Market, leaving early, to get back to my mother’s bedside in the nutmeg state.   We had three major crises while I was there, to the edge of the grave and back.  I was crazy with worry and living out of my suitcase.   I made the decision to return to Paris. 
Now, I am struck with an urgency to live.  Three paintings on Friday, cookies, artnotes to my beloved readers:  I have missed these parts of my own life.  My mother, 25 years my senior, lay dying, a victim of the world’s cruelest disease, alzheimer’s, which robs both the victim and the family of joy.  I want to make every day count and I force myself out of bed early, despite jet lag to paint and write.
My painting workshop begins in a month.  I have a really wonderful job possibility which we interview for on 27 April.  I am eager to paint again with my girlfriend Y, hopefully on Monday.
The usual folks and dogs are at the park.  Some of us are sneezing, and pollen dusts the benches in the early morning.  Blair and I have been bringing dog cookies to Harika’s friends.  Atlas has had to take a pill because this is the time of “heat” for many female dogs and he can’t eat or sleep (despite the fact he is castrated).  His counterparts are equally anguished, and some girl dogs just don’t come to the park in that condition.  Neutering is not a popular option here, despite its benefits for longevity or the unlikely event of breeding one’s dog (personally, I think people are too cheap or lazy to schedule the operation).
The windows are open in our apartment and birds fly by.  I am hoping for a new, great idea to enter on the wind and I await a beautiful summer.





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