Apples on the tree (with supports) Laurie Fox Pessemier Acrylic/canvas 9 x 12" 24 x 30cm
Sassi with Geraniums Blair Pessemier Acrylic/canvas 16 x 16" 40 x 40cm
Last red geraniums Laurie Fox Pessemier Acrylic/canvas 10 x 20 25 x 50 cm
Gold decorations Laurie Fox Pessemier Acrylic/canvas 12 x 16 30 x40cm
Sassuolo Laurie Fox Pessemier Acrylic/canvas 12 x 24" 30 x 60cm BUY
Between Now and Then
In my heart, I know I shouldn’t focus on the future, but all
I can think of right now is winter when Blair and I are left to our own devices…
we’re talking about a few weeks in the city of Bologna, and some time at the
beach. I love the beach in winter, when
no one is there, and the sand is open for running and playing with Harika. I
make up games, and Blair and I throw rocks at targets. Blair skips rocks on the ever-flat
Adriatic. The sky is all turquoise and
pink, reflecting colors of the sea and evaporation. The Mediterranean has more waves, but is
still a far cry from the giant Atlantic and Pacific. We used to go to the Pacific year-round when
we lived in Seattle: world’s largest
ocean, right there.
I’ve been thinking about Christmas (no advertising yet, I just thought it on my own), and I added gold decorations to four
Christmas trees I painted last winter. I
am trying to remember the words to carols.
We’re planning to get a big tree.
I know that fall is a favorite season for many, but it’s
never been so for me. I like the angle
of the sun, finally we can paint again during the day; but the shortening days
send me into a panic. We painted yesterday
with two new friends. We all headed up
to the Sassi, our BIG ROCKS, and painted from the deck of the closed-up
restaurant. The geraniums were still in
raging red bloom, and we arranged ourselves so they figured in the paintings.
Fall is a worrying time for me, with the disappearance of
flowers and butterflies. All I feel is
the END of things. Even though the
coloring of leaves is lovely, I feel happier when we’ve transitioned to winter,
and the trees show their limbs. Then, I
keep an eye peeled for pussy-willows.
Light abounds once more.
Fall smacks of new leather shoes and sharp pencils, the
aromas of school. Our yards smells of ripe
fruit; I paint the apples. The tree is assisted
with more props than limbs, thanks to Ludovico.
He collects errant branches all year long and turns them into
tree-crutches. I’ve
made plum jam and roasted pears. The
grapes are ripe, and the chickens jump in the air to capture them.
The sun is out today, despite our cold nights. Camilla, at the café, says the snails have
burrowed underground already, a sure sign of a cold, snowy winter. We ate lunch at the backyard table
yesterday, with the world’s most delicious tomatoes I “canned” from a friend’s
garden.
Grasshoppers with pink and green skirts fly among the dying
grasses, living up that last little bit of summer.
