The Louvre across the Seine Blair PESSEMIER Acrylic on linen 13 x 16 inches
Pont des Arts (more turquoise, less blue, in fact) Laurie Fox PESSEMIER Acrylic on linen 10 x 14 inches
Samaritaine in the distance Laurie Fox Pessemier Acrylic on linen 12 z 20"
Cafe Parasol Blair Pessemier Acrylic on linen 9 x 13"
Cafe beneath the umbrella Laurie Fox Pessemier Acrylic on linen 9 x 14 inches
Mothers and Children Cafe Luarie Fox Pessemier Acrylic on wood 9.5 x 7 "
Cafe Cafe Laurie Fox Pessemier Acrylic on wood 9.5 x 7"
Cafe woman with earring Luarie Fox Pessemier Acrylic on wood 9.5 x 6.5 inches
ARTNOTES: Moments from the heart
ARTNOTES: Moments from the heart
“I used to be a painter; I guess I am a failed painter,” the
tall man said.
“You can always go back to it,” I said.
“No, it is an act of love, and one can never go back to a
failed love affair.”
Such is the philosophy delivered in a sudden rainstorm, in
the garden this morning while we were walking Harika. We made for cover in the pavilion. Pyra and Atlas, Christine and Canaille stayed
for a short while, eventually braving the elements for home. We stayed on, as different folks arrived and
left. Among them were a man reading a religious
text, a man afraid of dogs (big mistake), and a man from Kashmir who Harika at
once fell in love with. She spoke to him
in her ooo-aaaa-ooo-gggrrooo voice. And
we fell to talking with him as well.
Finally, he said he would be more comfortable in English than French,
and it was then he told us he was an artist.
Now he would like to be a fisherman.
These are the moments in life I look for, when a universal
truth emerges. Maybe it isn’t universal,
or maybe not even true, but it is a statement spoken from someone’s heart. Thought provoking. It’s a step beyond discussing the weather or
someone’s last vacation, or Harika’s comportment (or lack thereof).
This week we had an art session with a woman celebrating her
50th birthday. Her daughters
paid for her lesson as a gift – she loves to paint, and they would be in
Paris. She undertook a 20 x 30 inch
canvas – the largest anyone has ever painted with us. They were from England and not subject to the
same baggage restrictions our American colleagues face on the airplane. We met her on the Pont des Arts, which she later
painted from the quai below, complete with her family standing on the bridge.
The lesson had a rocky start. A Jack Russell terrier fell (or jumped) from
the peniche docked in front of us on the Seine.
It was a regular occurrence, judging from the large hook they had for
retrieving him from the water. The water
police were called, but he was extracted before they arrived twenty minutes
later.
Meanwhile, his cohort in crime, a chocolate lab, saw this as
an opportunity to escape. He immediately
came over to our painting site, knocked over my easel, palette and coat,
walking through the paint, then on my
coat, which will never be clean again.
He was impossible to control, so Blair threw a stick onto the peniche he
came from. He obliged and ran to the
boat, traipsing pthalo turquoise and primary magenta all over his master’s vessel. The fellow gave up looking for the Jack
Russell, and started screaming about his BOAT (you know how boat owners
are). No apologies to us, just hateful
glares while I smiled. Comportment!
We revived, and I painted two paintings, while Blair
rendered the Louvre in shades of yellow.
A few drops of rain fell on us that we three refused to acknowledge, and
eventually the sun shone.
We’ve really enjoyed painting with others again – even in the rain. A week or so ago, I painted the lily pond at
Giverny in the rain, in the spirit of the Japanese block print. All weather can be good.
