Pont Alex III with the Workshop Laurie Fox Pessemier Acrylic/linen 11 x 18 27 x 46 cm
Searching for Springtime Laurie Fox Pessemier Acrylic/linen 12 x 16 30 x 40 cm
Alexander III with boats Blair Pessemier Acrylic/linen 13 x 18 33 x46cm
Grandmother and Child Blair Pessemier
Tulips from new friends Laurie Fox Pessemier Acrylic/linen 12 x 12" 30 x 30 cm
Artnotes: Spring Sprang Sprung
I am not really a writing person. I write Artnotes, sometimes painfully, and I
write here and there for magazines, but this sheet of white paper on my screen
is scary.
I have had a series of meltdowns this week, punctuated with
funny, happy, events. I broke my
glasses, on Saturday evening, just about the time I got an invitation from an Argentinean
TV travel program to do a feature on the Paris Painting Workshop: Monday. We tried superglue, but eventually put a
light blue cloth tape on the broken bow.
Then, shortly before filming, I thought I should have tape on the other
side so it looked balanced. We only had
green left, so there I was on the South American screen, wearing glasses with
one blue side and one green side. The
show airs in April.
Tuesday we were invited to the opening of a show of the work
of Piero Fornasetti, an Italian painter, designer, style maven from the 1950s
onward. He painted chairs, and decorated
cabinets to look like classical buildings.
He made dishes and umbrella stands, trays and tabletops, all in his
signature campy-drawing/litho style. It
was a terrifically fun exhibition at the museum of Decorative Arts, part of the
Louvre.
Our own house had its share of breakage this week: the water boiler kaput, the telephone buttons
freezing up, the computer (this computer) having a serious stoppage. I bought a new computer which seems easy to
master (five stars from PC world), but certain elements (why can’t I get the
words to wrap around in my emails?) are super-frustrating. Like my little sister used to say “I hate
learning new things”.
I spent days trying to get into a spring state of mind to
write an article about springtime in Paris.
I sat before the Orangerie in the Luxembourg Gardens, watching the trees
reach out toward the sun. I like to
think bees were flying in and out but my eyes aren’t that good.
We met a wonderful couple from California, who patiently
walked with us and Harika, our seeing-eye-dog (HA!) over to the park while the
optometrist was fixing my glasses. I can
almost see without my glasses, but can’t recognize a soul, so people think I am
a snob.
My new water boiler is boiling up a tempest in a teapot, as
I sit here wrestling with my new Chinese version of Word.
