Paintings by Blair + Laurie Fox PESSEMIER: ARTNOTES: The Top Down

The pond at Giverny Blair Pessemier Acrylic on linen 15 x 18 inches Sold

ARTNOTES: The Top Down

Eglise Auvers-sur-Oise Blair Pessemier Acrylic on linen 13 x16 inches

Blair returned from picking up the rental car on Thursday, announcing, “the offered me a convertible so I took it.” I had ordered a seven passenger van to accept our painters (fortunately only two) and all of our equipment. “What? What are these people going to think?”

With some difficulty, we managed to get our painting gear, minus the caddie, into the back of the car. It was a new Volvo C70 convertible with the retractable hard roof. It looked like a “transformer” (do you remember those kids toys from a few years ago?), and people congregated on the street as we performed the metamorphosis between a sort-of-sensible and wild-and-crazy car.

“It’s only got two doors,” I moaned, although secretly I was thinking it was pretty spectacular. I had recently accused Blair of being no fun, and he figured this would be a good way to show me he was still the sporty, stylish guy I married.

After learning how to operate the roof, we picked up our charges, a mom celebrating 50 years, and her 18 year old son, at the edge of the Latin quarter. It was a period of non-rain, and although only sixty-five degrees, the sun peeked out. We drove (slowly) down the congested St. Michel, along the Seine and beneath the Louvre to Madeleine. I’d never seen the buildings in such detail – from the middle of the road without a roof I could see EVERYTHING. I heard the people in the back seat whisper, “this is better than the bus tour”.

We drove North, by Place de Clichy (we couldn’t see the Moulin Rouge) and past Montmartre. Paris thinned out as we made our way to the country. I began to smell the trees (little leaf lindens, achoo!) and the wheat. Harika hung on for dear life as the wind buffeted her fur. THIS is living!

We parked the car on top of the hill in Auvers, overlooking the countryside. We visited the graves of the Van Goghs, and walked through the wheat fields. We visited many of the plaques indicating Van Gogh’s last works, and some of Cezanne, Corot and Daubigny. Making like those famous types, we painted around the church. After a visit to Dr. Gachet’s house (there was a cat, much to the chagrin of Harika, who was on leash), we piled back into the car and drove into Paris: with the top down.