Grape vines with a view Laurie Fox Pessemier Acrylic/linen 13 x 16" 33 x 41 cm
Street scene at sunset Blair Pessemier Acrylic/linen 20 x 16" 50 x 40 cm
Street on the way to our cafe Laurie Fox Pessemier Acrylic/linen 16 x 10.5 " 41 x 27cm
Artnotes: The Thrill
Artnotes: The Thrill
As I sit at my computer posting pictures of our paintings
from Italy, I realize the thrill is gone.
Not the thrill for Italy, but the thrill I felt while I was there. I just can’t express how differently I felt,
how I saw with baby eyes, new forms and colors. I had a giggly quality as I sipped
cappuccino, as I wrote my impressions, and planned the day. Sunshine might have had something to do with
it, and there was a special end of the day light that could just make my heart
soar.
In Cervo, I recline
on my bed examining the frescos on our 18 foot tall ceiling. There were layers of murals on the walls, one
marvelous image leading into another. I
would think, why is it nobody wants frescoes today? I mean, if you could have anything in your
house, why wouldn’t it be a fantastic scene on the ceiling? Why wouldn’t you have the roof 5 meters
above? The most recent ceiling fresco I am aware of
is one Matisse did in his own house.
Blair and I tried to paint one once in Seattle, when we were first
married, but it was clear we couldn’t work on the same page.
But when I think of these experiences, these stories, here
in Paris, they fall flat. So, in a word,
we had a deliriously WONDERFUL time that I can’t even give an inkling of. But take heart, I believe we are going back
in January/February. Really, where
better than to sell those Italian images but in the place they were
painted? Our hostess has offered to
present our work to the town for a show later in the year.
While there, we went to the local exhibition space. They were having a holy card show, just to keep
into perspective Italy is a Roman Catholic country. Blair and I were inspired to make Christmas
cards, which will be ever so Italian this year.
If I had to describe Italy in a word, I think it would be
drama. There is drama in everything. My
experience at the library (no internet, and little coverage, sadly); driving in
the car (our speed increased twofold at the other end of the France/Italy tunnel
– and don’t even think of trying to get ahead).
Sitting at the beauty parlor, my hairdresser’s
friend came in and told a story of her
own mistaken identity (I am not completely null in Italian, just sort of) with
such flourish, such glamour, such waving of hands and body, I might as well
have been at the opera. If you ever
want to get a bead on things, go to the hairdresser.
We went to Portofino, Rapallo, Genoa -- all great.
Italy is SO very different from France – not so many “historic” or “artistic”
attractions, but a sense that Caesar might have lost a sandal buckle right
where you are walking. Or Hannibal, Leonardo da Vinci, or Christopher Columbus –
or just Blair and Laurie and Harika.
