Squid Boat Blair Pessemier Oil on linen 11 x 16 inches
Ranunculas in Paris Laurie Fox Pessemier Acrylic on linen 11 x 16 inches
Blonde with a Beer Laurie Fox Pessemier Acrylic on linen 13 x 5 inches
Coffee at the Bar Laurie Fox Pessemier Acrylic on linen 10 x 6 inches
ARNOTES: A Coffee for You
The ride home on the TGV was a preview of things to
come. After turning North at Marseille,
the sky clouded up and shortly after we were powering through driving
snow. The weather remained wet from that
day forward. There have been sun breaks
but our temperatures are just above freezing. I long for a sit on the beach, but things
aren’t looking hopeful.
My mind wanders back to the weekend at Eze, a village on top
of a hill overlooking the Mediterranean.
It was the third time we tried to get there, which seems to have been
the charm. It was a friend’s birthday,
so we made a reservation at a fine restaurant with a view.
We took one bus up the hill, and waited another twenty
minutes for the next one. The natives
were restless, but I knew we’d make it this time. It was a maniacal ride, with bat turns and no
place to sit down, but I managed not to get carsick.
We walked the last few yards up the hill. A stony outcropping at the top of a hill is
home to a 12th century village.
Stone pathways give way to two Relais/Chateau hotels (one was closed for
the season) and lots of little shops catering to summer tourists. At the very top of the hill is a cactus
garden (the French call it a jardin exotique) intertwined among the ruins of an
ancient castle. The views are beyond
fantastic.
After an aperitif on the terrace, we took our lunch inside. The food was impeccable, the best we had on
our month in Villefranche. It was a
lengthy sit, and our friend insisted on taking a taxi back down the hill (it is
also possible to walk down a path). In
the end, the taxi ride cost as much as one of the dinners. So goes the life of a tourist.
We had such a wonderful time painting in Villefranche we are
planning a similar foray next year, for a longer period. I rarely go back to the same place twice, but
left so many stones unturned I have to go back and see what lurks in Antibes
and Nice.
And next year, I hope to have more painters with me – the sunshine
and turquoise water are just too good to pass up.
In Paris this week, I painted at a café by myself. The waiter must have thought I was waiting
for someone, because he never took my order.
After two small paintings, I left.
Blair bought flowers, which I have painted in the house.
We’re planning to take our gallery back, this time with a
different twist. An artist friend has
offered to occupy the studio downstairs, which makes our rent more
affordable. On the main floor, we are
going to include artistic objects in the mix a things – you might not want to
buy a painting, but what about a chair?
We’ve some very odd items which might stimulate conversation. I am
buying a coffee machine (you know, those Nespresso things? You put a little tablet in the machine, add
water? No mess) so I can treat myself to
cappuccino and offer you one.
