Artnotes Italy Daily

Sunday, September 17, 2017

The Filosofia of Flies

​Classic Fly   Laurie Fox PESSEMIER  Acrylic/canvas (unstretched, to frame under glass) 10 x 12"  25 x 30cm   75.00


​Fly on Back  Laurie Fox PESSEMIER  Acrylic/canvas (unstretched, to frame under glass) 9 x 12"  23 x 30cm   75.00


​Fly with a Turquoise Wing   Laurie Fox PESSEMIER  Acrylic/canvas (unstretched, to frame under glass) 11 x 9"  28 x 23cm   75.00

Fly on Pink background   Laurie Fox PESSEMIER  Acrylic/canvas (unstretched, to frame under glass) 10x 12"  25 x 30cm   75.00

 Flies on a Gold Field  Laurie Fox PESSEMIER  Acrylic/canvas (unstretched, to frame under glass) 8 x 14"  20 x 35cm   75.00

Rose   Laurie Fox PESSEMIER  Acrylic/canvas (unstretched, to frame under glass) 9 x 9"  23 x 23cm   75.00

If you were ever in doubt of the sophistication of Italy, consider this: there is a Philosophy Festival in Modena every year.  And, this year the theme is “Arti”, I like to think it is to coincide with our show in the very same town at the very same time.   The Festival Filosofia also touches outlying towns including Carpi and Sassuolo, but Modena is the heart.  The streets are full of thinkers, and many came to our show, which continues for one month.

This was all a great relief after having been plagued with the autumn scourge of FLIES.  They’ve been called the national bird of Italy and the punch line of many a joke.   But in a word, ANNOYING.  DISTRACTING.  Even INFURIATING.    Their inward migration has more to do with the change in temperature than cleanliness.  I leave nothing out on the kitchen counters; I wash the table more times a day than usual.

I try to find something good about flies.   From a philosophical standpoint, I was told that “the fly” keeps you in the moment.  Flies can raise you, during meditation, to another elemental plane.  All they do for me is raise my blood pressure.  They throw me off my game, be it painting or writing.  I use our nylon net pavilion outside for any “clean” work I need to do.

I was able to find surprisingly little material about flies on the Internet.  Spelled “fly” all those paid advertisements for air travel pop up; “flies” it is not much different.   I notice there is less information freely available online than there once was.   One must go to page three or four to get any independent input.  

We have hundreds of flies here each day;  I kill about 75.  We have fly swatters in every room.  Even at the Chinese store, I was unable to find any of those electric tennis racket zappers in stock.  So we struggle.


Which is when I decided to make the most of them:  painted.  All poses:  reclining, squashed, in flight.  Life size, which might be cut up into individual paintings, or larger, bigger than life F L I E S.    I have thought about varnishing those that have died peacefully, and attaching them to a straight pin one might wear in a lapel or on hat.  If I were to paint them in an overall single color, like yellow or puce, they might be interesting.  Although it could be tough to make it clear that it is a fly.  Thin paint, I guess. 



And if this hasn't been a sufficiently mundane post, let me add that I found an unopened bottle of scotch whiskey in the communal garbage dumpster today, while rummaging for yesterday’s Design issue of la Repubblica.  I didn’t find that, but it is available online.  There are hardly any flies around the dumpster.  There must be something philosophical in all that.

No comments: