Apple Trees Normandy Blair Pessemier Acrylic/wood 7.5 x 19.5 inches
Boatyard Deauville Laurie Fox Pessemier Acrylic/wood 6.5 x 13 inches
View of Trouville beach Blair Pessemier Acrylic/wood 6.5 x 13 inches
Tree by the Calvodos stand Laurie Fox Pessemier Acrylic/wood 6.5 x 9.5 inches
Eglise at Criqueboeuf Blair Pessemier Acrylic/wood 6.5 x 9.5
Harika at the Beach Laurie Fox Pessemier Acrylic/wood 7 x 13
Apple Trees/Cider farm Laurie Fox Pessemier Acrylic/wood 5.5 x 20.5 inches
Apple and Poplar Trees Laurie Fox Pessemier Acrylic/wood 6.5 x 13 inches
Tide out/Trouville Laurie Fox Pessemier Acrylic/wood 6 x 13 inches
Artnotes: Have a Laugh
Artnotes: Have a Laugh
A generous friend loaned us her apartment in Trouville this week. We drove up on Sunday and stayed through Wednesday. I had to take allergy medicine while I was there, but frolicking on the beach is always worth it.
We painted from the car – gnarly apple trees in shades of gold; big old trees robed in oranges. The warmth of the leaf color against the grey sky was beautiful. We painted a little on the beach, but freezing temperatures and precipitation (was that snow?) held us back some. Harika knew she was growing that big heavy coat for something, and she could lay on the sand like it was July – when she wasn’t jumping in the air for joy.
We cooked sole and oysters while we were there, eating by candlelight in our fourth floor perch with the clattering shutters overlooking the sea.
We returned to a dinner invitation at a friend’s house in Paris. They shared with us (and another three people) their experiences in Africa. She loved to see how happy the children were when she gave them crayons “they rarely have pencils, let alone COLOR”. Their group ASKED the people what they wanted for projects. It wasn’t hospitals or schools, but a way to stop flooding every year; and a way to keep the rope from the well clean and off the ground -- sound ideas on the way to bigger projects.
There was big talk about birth control and population growth, especially from one woman who herself came from a family of 13 kids. It’s like being the last family allowed to propagate, or the final immigrant to a country – it just doesn’t work like that. There was more talk about how warm and loving the people were there – they smile and laugh.
I currently live in a country with little laughter, and the prospect sounded divine. I can laugh like a banshee, which I haven’t been doing a lot lately, but know it’s still in there. I hope to cut loose during our Thanksgiving holiday in Connecticut. Maybe I will even laugh on the plane, probably over the size and placement of our bargain seats.
Once in awhile I have to laugh at how serious I can take things, and Blair and I giggle like school kids. It exposes our soul.