Artnotes: Two Second Flutter

 

25 January 2026   Roccamalatina, MO   ITALIA Join us for Sunday Salon  25 January (see below) Po Delta  Spoonbills  Laure Fox Pessemier  Acrylic/paper  11 x 6.5  16 x 28 cm 150.00 Berlino had a great week – his fun and accomplishments outshine ours.    He caught and released a shrew after carrying it down the path.  He’s a bird dog, careful not to ruffle the feathers, and the shrew appeared to be healthy and unharmed.  Not so untouched was I, who tried to pry it out of his jaws (will it hurt me?) before my nonchalant dog just dropped it. I lost my hat and my headlight in a puddle.  He’s learned to pee in the water gulley by by suspending himself between the path (back legs) to the hill (front legs):  lots of area covered with this technique. Eurasian Nuthatch   Laurie Fox Pessemier  Acrylic/paper  7.5 x 10”   19 x 25cm  90.00 I record bird calls on the walk:  8 that day. Not so bad considering the fog and light rain.  I miss the birds when they are not present.  It is not unusual to hear 20 different songs in as many minutes in the spring and summer.   Merlin (Cornell’s bird app, courtesy my friend Jennifer) said there were 171 likely birds in the Guiglia area this day.  I was happy with eight and painted pictures of two.   In the larger picture (Emilia Romagna) there are hundreds (390) more birds just an hour or so car drive away, including spoonbills, flamingoes, ibis and osprey who all pass through the Po Delta.  Glossy Ibis Po Valley    Laurie Fox Pessemier  Acrylic/paper  6.5 x 11”  16 x 28cm   150.00 We entertained for lunch this week:  cauliflower soup, duck breast with a cherry gastrique, and pommes sarladaises.   0 kilometer sourcing:  actually, maybe 20 (how can they ever say 0?).  We have some great food raised in our area.   Our guest made an apple cake (her apples) for dessert.   It wasn’t an Italian menu, but neither are we.  Zero Kilometer (Pike Place Market memory)  Blair Pessemier  Acrylic/canvas    18: x 22"  46 x 55   490.00 I am trying hard to make it through all this “indoor” time.  Bernie and I go out to walk in the morning, but frankly, I am tired of being holed up in the house for much of the day.  I read poems about being indoors looking out the window.  Poet John O’Donohue from Ireland is good for that one – I am anticipating reading his books that I just found today.   Crab  Blair Pessemier  Acrylic/canvas    9.5: x 13"  24 x 33  390.00 There is a silver lining to the shut-in-ness.  Yesterday, I spoke with three friends on the telephone (or zoom). I visited with others during the week; Blair, too    I really need to talk and hear my correspondent cast a light on what is being said.   They tell me how they deal with the horrors of the world; what they think is important for food, for beauty; books that open a new perspective;  their totally shocking point of view (and sometimes my own which I hear for the first time).   And during that talk, I feel that same two-second flutter in my chest when I know how much I love them.   It is the feeling I felt when we first connected.  Or maybe, just maybe, today is our connection. Po Delta Migrating bird (Stork or Heron) Laure Fox Pessemier  Acrylic/paper  11 x 6.5  16 x 28 cm 150.00 We drove the short distance to the junk store and bought a Chinese dish, two potholders and a stuffed badger for Berlino for all of 8 euros.  He tears it apart in record time, but that beast beneath the fig tree has been bugging him for a year.  Hmmph. Eurasian Green Woodpecker      Laurie Fox Pessemier  Acrylic/paper  7.5 x 10”   19 x 25cm  90.00 HOUSEKEEPING:  We make art to order, including portraits by Blair Pessemier.    Follow us on Instagram @lauriepessemier or Blair's @poeticfences See all of our painting at https://paintfox.com Most of our work is available as reproductions, custom sized and frames Support our art with a donation at:  https://donate.stripe.com/4gMaEW1XwfT041t1BCcEw00   sign up for Artnotes, our weekly art missive, by contacting me at lfpessemier@gmail.com or https://mailchi.mp/341f508cecf8/artnotes INVITING All Artists to present their Work:   Paint, Literature, Crafts, Food.... Pessemier's Sunday Salon Weekly on Sunday  No Reservation Necessary   How it works: Bring a piece of your ART: that could be visual, like painting or printmaking; or literary, as in poetry or prose; or crafts, like metalwork or knitting; or food, or music.  Something you made, or feel particularly inspired by.  You have about 5 minutes to present, and we'll ooh, ahh, or answer questions you have.  You can also come and see how we work before diving in.  Just show up on Zoom at a minute or two before the hour.    No selling, no networking until after everyone has presented.  No politics, no sales pitches, please. Join Zoom Meeting https://us02web.zoom.us/j/88093708954?pwd=M04zNHB4dFZkREp3bThweUd1YnVDZz09 Meeting ID: 880 9370 8954 Passcode: 886402 Rome 8PM; NY 2 PM; LosAngeles 11AM

Artnotes: Sound Track

 Snowing in Rocca M    Laurie Fox Pessemier   Acrylic/linen  12 x 16"  30 x 40cm 

 ​Fog in the Evening   Blair Pessemier   Acrylic/linen  9.5 x 14"  24 x 35 cm   

 ​Plants sitting out Winter in Basement  Laurie Fox Pessemier   Acrylic/linen 9.5 x 13  24 x 33cm

 ​Snow on Sunday Morning   Laurie Fox Pessemier  Acrylic/linen  12 x 16"  30 x 40cm

​House in Morning Fog   Laurie Fox Pessemier 8 x 10"  20 x 25cm 

Artnotes:  Sound Track

All this week I’ve woken up with giant ideas.  I have thought of art shows in our fields this spring, of making figures of cement (or terra cotta) to place along the driveway, of love and what it really is.   I have started pursuing the pop up show idea in Bologna, but may make a venue change to Florence.   I have a terrible time sleeping in the dark days of winter – I could fall asleep at 7 and could get up at 2.  I just can’t tell, when it’s dark and quiet, like it is here, what time of the day or night it is.

The roosters seem to be in the same boat – they crow at midnight.  They are crowing now.  They crow constantly, it seems, the current sound track to my life.  When they don’t crow, like in the fog, it is perfectly silent.  Our prior sound track was sirens in the streets of Paris, a frightening, non-organic sound.  It wasn’t always that way [in Paris], but when we moved to a street side (as opposed to courtyard) location for more light, we got more noise.

My favorite soundtrack was when our neighbor Olivier, in Paris, played the piano.  He wasn’t Liberace, or Glenn Gould, but he played Bach – one song, over and over, trying to perfect it.  I came to love the sound, and could recognize when he was angling for that one, fatal mistake, before he made it and would start over again.

Went to Bologna this week to see a Guido Reni and Carracci show, with the added surprise of our friends taking us on a walking tour of the city, which we will take you on someday, too.   Bologna was empty, the audio to a minimum (it’s a pedestrian city) – just the tap tap of shoes on the terrazzo sidewalks, echoing under the loggias.  It was a rare day of filtered sunshine, and we visited the seven churches of St. Stefano, all chined together.

We’re headed for the sound track of the sea tomorrow.  We’ll go to Cervo, Liguria, where we went last Christmas.  We miss the frescoed ceilings, and the big patio, where we can eat lunch in the sun and hear the lapping of the waves.

Artnotes: Like a Bird

 Trees in the Early Morning   Laurie Fox Pessemier   Acrylic/linen  9.5 x 13"  24 x 33cm  

 ​First Rays   Laurie Fox Pessemier   Acrylic/linen   9.5 x 14"   24 x 35 cm

 Pink Sky   Laurie Fox Pessemier  Acrylic/linen  10 x 12"  25 x 30cm

 Fog in the Valley    Laurie Fox Pessemier   Acrylic/linen   15 x 18"  37.5 x 46 cm    

​Persimmons on the trees  Laurie Fox Pessemier   Acrylic/linen  19.75 x 12"  50 x 30cm

​Persimmons in Winter  (actually turquoise blue, which doesn't register on the camera)  Laurie Fox Pessemier   Block print  3.5 x 5"  9 x 12.5 cm

Artnotes:  Like a Bird

“Try this one.” V shows me a five gallon bottle of odd green liquid.

Oh no, no, thank you.

“It’s made from a plant, Ortica.”  His partner steps outside and returns, trying to hand me a stinging nettle. He holds it gingerly.  

I imagine a prickly throat. 

After a plastic shot glass full of grappa (“only 43%” they assure me), we left the Alpini with a half bottle of Ortica liqueur and a warm feeling.  People are always surprised we moved from Paris to Rocca Malatina, Italy, but we love it here.  We loved Paris, too, but the big change of 2015 has been fabulous.

I am looking forward to holiday festivities here.  A friend is buying us a butterball turkey at the PX in Pisa, and I am inviting anyone who wants to come (call first, so I make enough mashed potatoes).   It could be an opportunity to serve the Ortica liqueur.   We are invited to partake of the traditional “seven fish” on Christmas Eve in Modena.  And tomorrow we go to a Christmas party in the country.  Cookie baking is on the agenda.  I’ve already made those nutty crescents…

I have been doing artwork all week, working toward the perfect card (it may just be electronic this year, considering $2+ postage).  I have painted pictures and made woodcuts.   I am enjoying the woodcuts tremendously, and they get better and better.   I am offering a Woodcut package:  For $100.00, I will send you, anywhere in the world, four woodcuts throughout the year.  They will be printed on high quality, acid-free paper, so they will last forever, and they would be good to have individually or as a set, or would make a nice gift.   

The Rocca Malatina ambulance drivers got to go practice new driving maneuvers at the Ferrari racetrack today – now I understand why the ambulance service has so many volunteers.   It's not just an organization of ambulance activities -- they sponsor events in the town, like a pair of bagpipe players to walk the streets on Christmas Eve, and hot mulled wine after midnight mass.

The sun has been shining up here in the mountains, as the lower-lying cities have been blanketed in fog.  The temperature is actually cooler down below, and the “ice” warning flashes on the dashboard of the cream puff.  It is the most curious thing living at this altitude: I feel like a bird.