5 November 2014

ooops again!

Where did the last couple of weeks go?

I have been reading about blogging instead of blogging, planning my projects instead of actioning them, and generally taking a bit of time out. My wrist is now almost recovered so I guess I should put it to action again :)

Here is an afternoon photo (no, the valley doesn't look like that today, but I am flicking through my recently downloaded photos - I seem to be taking fewer and fewer photographs these days - and this one appealed).

I still say that the shadows are on the wrong side of the trees.

Today I am grateful for news of travellers safely returned to their homes.

18 October 2014

70 years of hope

I wanted to record this day on my blog mainly for myself. I "should" (I don't use that word, remember?) be writing a post for the Monte Cassino Foundation for Remembrance and Reconciliation, or for Legato, but that requires a little more time and thought than I can give at the end of the day.

Today we remembered the civilian victims of the battle of Cassino and the wider region. The actual front line was here for five months, but the war was in this zone, with bombings and casualties, for 9 months. And after that came three years of malaria. So many of my friends were children then. They have welcomed me into their homes and hearts as the daughter of an Allied soldier.

After the event this morning there was a march through town to the memorial for the civilians. I walked alongside, in support but not in the column. It wouldn't have felt quite right to join in, but it was right to be there. Instead of standing in the hot sun at the ceremony at the monument I returned to my little town and visited one of the unsung "vittime civili di guerra". With no visible scars, you would never guess what this lovely lady endured during the war. Seven and a half at the time, she has vivid images still of things no child should ever have to see or remember. Tomorrow I will visit another who survived in a cave by eating grass, terrified that the baby in the family might cry and alert the soldiers to their presence. These victims need to be heard, and a visit, a cup of coffee, a listening ear and a few hours of my time is not a lot to give but is an important part of my work here.

Remembering opens wounds, but also allows healing. The speakers from Cassino became very emotional and lost for words as they held the microphone and told what they had experienced.

Equally important today was the focus on youth, and their future. I really hope that the students present could relate the images they watched today to their grandparents and great grandparents. When I watch them in the audience I wonder if they really appreciate what happened only 70 years ago in what is now a bustling, busy, and on a day like today in glorious sunshine, very peaceful city. Certainly the older folk in the audience were remembering, and messages from those unable to attend couldn't be delivered without the readers stopping to recover from the emotions they felt.

I have had another "hat" popped gently on my head, that of delegate from Cassino to NZ to form links between NZ schools and Cassino (and other schools in other countries). This is an initiative (largely online) to bring better understanding of peace so that we can, as speakers urged today, eliminate the word war from our vocabulary. Peace is not the absence of war, it is a different state completely. "Educating for a culture of peace" is one of my much used phrases.

This new initiative is, in loose translation from the Italian title, the Anne Frank International Youth Centre (Cassino). I am very pleased to be included in this group - appointed (in true Italian style without invitation or consultation!) because of my work with the MCFRR and Legato.

Thinking caps on, friends out there in education, I will be calling on you for help with this project.

Now to take a break, and get back some energy for tomorrow's writing and visits.

Today I am grateful for passionate peace workers.

10 October 2014

whew! (with emphasis)

Today I received a wonderful phone call. The clients were thrilled, the recipients of the gift were emotional and elated, and the artist - she's just plain relieved!

The painting that I had completed under duress, forcing myself to meet a tight deadline and doing more damage to my wrist in the process, was unveiled at a 50th wedding anniversary dinner. Apparently the 140 guests were suitably wowed, the friends giving the gift were thrilled at the response and the recipients were so moved by it that they wanted to thank me themselves.

You can peek at it in miniature, but because it is of a personal nature I don't think I should make it too accessible here.

Now at last I can relax and maybe see some of the good parts of it (I think I did the steam train rather well). It is probably one of the most difficult commissions I have ever been given, with four separate landscapes, a townscape and a double portrait all in one painting.

The genuine pleasure in the voice of the organiser almost made up for the stress it caused me.

And while I am really, really pleased that they are all so happy, I am more pleased that I have been able to buy myself a good quality weed-eater with the proceeds.

Today I am grateful for happy clients. Whew! 

2 October 2014

no such thing

How often do we say that there is no such thing as a coincidence, and that our apparently random encounters are all part of what is "meant to be?"

I have recently had some rather special encounters with delightful people. With each encounter I feel that my life is richer, my "friend base" wider. I feel supported, cared for, and am feeling nurtured and warm as the temperatures begin to fall.

What will this European winter bring, I wonder? I suspect that the "corner" I have been turning for the last ten years will continue to stretch out for a while yet, but it is so lovely to feel that I am perhaps doing something worthwhile and that my ups and downs might smooth a little in the future.

Yesterday I sold a painting, and tomorrow I deliver a commissioned work. This morning special guests left, but next week more lovely people return. Life is interesting, and life is good. There has been much laughter around the table in the garden recently.

Today's departing guests arrived as perfect strangers, sent my way by a mutual friend, but they leave as wonderful friends and have left with me some lovely memories and warm hugs. I have enjoyed their company enormously and really hope that they too return.

Boomerang guests are good, and like-minded people allow me to relax freely. Perhaps I really am in the right place, doing what I should be doing. I hope so.

And are all these just amazing links between us just random coincidences in our lives? I am sure that there is no such thing.

Today I am grateful for new friends. 

14 September 2014

well did you ever...?

Every three or four years I rather idly google my name to see what is floating around cyberspace. Occasionally I have been horrified to find things that I thought were quite private rather easily accessed. However, it is the price we pay for using the web.

This evening I rather casually invited someone to google my name to learn a little more about what I do. I didn't want to bore a new friend with too much information that might be of little interest, because I do get on my soap box sometimes. Then I thought "Yikes, I haven't googled for a while. I wonder what is out there now?" I found this, from a trip to Atina. It is something that I remember well but had not seen on the web.

I had not expected to be called to speak, and in sharing the memories of NZ veterans, particularly those talking about the conditions the civilians were living in, is draining, emotionally exhausting. I am happy to be the link between then and now, but it does come at a cost. I go home saddened, and have to remind myself that it was all 70 years ago and this is another life.

But how can one think of this without thinking about what is happening in the world today?

Although not a Catholic I occasionally read in Italian papers what the Pope is saying. I very much like what he is preaching. He said recently that we must work LOUDLY for peace, not quietly. So, because I agree, I am repeating this theme and asking "What am I doing to promote peace? And - are my words idle and empty ones?"

Let there be peace on earth. And if necessary, let us work through the internet to promote it.

What am I doing? Well, after being totally exhausted with the 70th anniversary commemorations and the extra large opening of Legato, I have happily retreated and have been writing children's books with the theme of peace. Any ideas for how I might get these published are most welcome.

Today I am grateful for google. 

11 September 2014

muddling along

"The weather is truly frightful... " well, not really, and I don't want to "let it snow, let it snow, let it snow", but it has been stormy enough to blow shut balcony doors open, to have wind howling so loudly I wouldn't have been able to sleep (had I been in bed and not mopping up water that came in from the studio balconies at 1.30 this morning). But it is warm. I'm not even wearing long sleeves. It is only 2.30pm and I am finding it difficult to paint in this dull light.

But paint I must, if this frustrating and difficult commission is to be finished on time.

Five completely disparate scenes united in one painting. It has not been easy.

Here are some little snippets that might give you some idea of what I am dealing with. And for me, the overriding thought is that the unsuspecting recipients of this gift need to like it too.

Here's hoping!

If you would like to read something else try this blog post from another writer. It is interesting. I need to come back and read it again, so I have linked it here so I can find it easily when I am ready to think about it some more.

Today I am grateful for warmth with the storms. 

9 September 2014

looking back then looking forward

Today I wrote some notes for a presentation in NZ, not by me but by a wonderful peace worker in Northland. She came to Legato this year, bringing impressive contemporary art work with her, and only two days ago I made time to (finally) look at the books that she had left with me. Coincidentally, this morning I received an email from her asking for my thoughts on Peace, as she wanted to build her presentation around this theme.

This took me back to the "why" of my living here, in a satisfying way. As life gets harder, as I get tired, as I wonder how I will keep going and perhaps begin to doubt my sanity a little, it is good to look back. Some of my blog posts inspire me and remind me of what I am trying to do. I would like to be that candle in the darkness, that calm in a storm. I would like to live the lines of the song that say "Let there be peace on earth and let it begin with me".

We cannot, as individuals, change the world. We change ourselves, and if we do that in the way we think is best for the whole world, then eventually the world will change.

Here, for those interested, is something I wrote for a global online paper some time ago. I was pleased to find it again this afternoon. It is a link to an older post on this blog.

I called the article "Superheroes and Mere Mortals". 

Today I am grateful for contact with peace workers. 

29 August 2014

sharing the love

That title sounds like a hash tag. A few years ago I had no idea what a hashtag was, and I still don't know if it is one word or two.

But last night was a little bit special for me, sitting on my own in a big crowd wishing just a tiny bit that I could share my little moment of excitement with someone who might care.

This is a copy from my FB artist page, to save time and let me get back to my painting.
Last night at the main concert of the 20th Festival Internationale Severino Gazzeloni series I was happily singing the Italian national anthem, struggling with the words a little, while thinking "that photo on the two screens looks as though it was taken from the same place I painted from" - and then I saw my name under it.

My landscape of Caprile had been chosen to be the image used for the opening of the event, with a banner of the Italian colours super-imposed over the sky, screening to a huge crowd for the duration of the national anthem. Very humbling and proud moment. Thank you, Roccasecca, for including me this way.

Another of my watercolour landscapes featured later, and it was lovely to see it in this unusual context. Two large screens on either side of the stage displayed local art works chosen to complement the musical programme. The artists were also acknowledged several times, so people knew that they were viewing local artworks. Rather special.
Photo by Tommasino Marsella, "borrowed" from FaceBook. You can see a little of the image on the TV screen that was to the right of the stage, the one on the left is behind the lamp post.

Today I am grateful for inclusion.

12 August 2014

random photos will add to these - maybe

underway - second solo in my "hometown"

This evening I wondered why I had never bothered to organise a solo show here. I had one in 2007 on the advice of my lawyer and friend. He evidently thought that to establish my place in the community I needed to paint the town red - or blue - or green... in fact, that exhibition is probably what pulled me back into painting as I did 40 years ago. His advice was to paint local scenes. I did.  It was difficult, turning back the clock and trying to remember all I had forgotten. (It's coming back to me now though, for better or for worse). I've also had two or three solos in my own little village here, but somehow they don't feel like "real exhibitions" when I look back on them.

I exhibit in Cassino each year with the Legato exhibition that I organise and curate, so I suppose I really don't think beyond that. I also show my works in group exhibitions all over the region. But solo? Well, it simply wasn't important to me.

However, when asked to put on an exhibition as part of the summer programme here I reluctantly cancelled another obligation and pulled together a show. I have 37 works and a folder of small watercolours on display. Not bad really, and, although I say it myself, it looks good in the space.

Photos added in the next post as I get them onto the computer.

Today I am grateful for genuine and appreciative comments. 

8 August 2014

almost ready to exhibit

The hard work has been done. The paintings are all at the venue, most of them hanging. I need to wait until the morning for the panels (on which to hang the last ten works) to be brought down from on the stage. The paintings are sorted and ready for what I hope is instant hanging.

An oversight on the part of the organiser (and I should have nagged) probably means that once again my big paintings wont make it to the exhibition. The promised truck was not sent to collect them, but cross fingers for tomorrow. One thing I have learnt is that doing things at the last minute functions very well in Italy.

A friend has brought in three portraits that I did for her family in 2008, and I am delighted to see them again. She works for the Comune, and the exhibition is in the Comune conference room/gallery. I imagine she will enjoy sharing the portrait with her colleagues.

As always there are a few things to do before opening - I'd like to put in a couple of pot plants and make the space a little more attractive. Let's see how it looks tomorrow when the workers have removed excess tables and chairs.

I was amused and bemused to find that not only had the dates of the exhibition been changed without checking with me, (not so amusing) but that the exhibition had been named for me too. I'm still wondering how that works!

I had a little play with the locandina tonight. Here is my version of their version...

Today I am grateful for the friend who helps me hang my exhibitions.

7 August 2014

so i'm a bit of a softie

On Monday my oldest grandie starts school.

I've seen the photos, read the teacher's excellent profile, and I know he will be in great company and good hands.


Ok, that's all.

Today I am grateful for innocent children.

3 August 2014

and here it is...

Today I am grateful for accurate spelling. 

making a list, checking it twice...

It seems that I have enough works for an exhibition without stressing and working late hours. Whew!

Now to find some easels...

and yes, I did remind them how to spell my name correctly. Let's see what happens with my personal "locandina" . For my locandina (poster) I sent a choice of images to use; it will be interesting to see how my name and image is presented! 

Today I am grateful for lists. 

1 August 2014

better prepare I suppose...

Today I am grateful for messages from family and friends. 

29 July 2014

digging a little

When I work out how to access my photos presumably uploaded onto Google+ I will post some images from the "dig" at Aquino. Saturday was the (second) annual open day. It really is amazing, seeing history uncovered. And so close to home!

On Saturday afternoon I was visiting a family in a different region, and after I had shown them my photos (on the mini-tablet I am somewhat inept with) they gave me two pieces of Roman treasure "to paint on". Their home and garden is over more Roman ruins, but that is not actually a blessing but more of a concern. Who wants their quiet and their livelihood disturbed to dig up yet another Roman villa? (No, I can't remember how to get there, nor can I remember the name of the village. It is a long way from here and I was following another car, I don't have the address).

In the meantime, if I could only remember where I put my camera battery charger, I could take a few more photos to paint from, while the sunflowers are in bloom, the cornflowers are glowing in the morning light, and the huge rolls of hay lie gleaming in the sun.

Today I am grateful for nice weather.

19 July 2014

my ivy - and other weed - problem

This post is for my FB Vege Garden group friends, I didn't think I should hi-jack the page with a non-vege posting of this scale.

I have two major problems in my garden, ivy and a weed I didn't know in NZ, but here it is referred to as wild fig. It is not a fruiting plant, but looking at my real fig tree I can see where the name might have come from.

Stone walls here are made with the dry stone method, now a dying art. Looking at one of these walls in good condition (ie, not attacked by the two plants mentioned above) you simply can't tell if the wall has been there for three hundred years or one thousand years. They are quite amazing. (This town was established in 904AD, so I don't jest about 1000 years).

My terraces have such walls. This is where the bigger problem becomes my problem. I have sections of wall (some shared responsibility with neighbours) where the two plants have taken hold. Local lore is that the roots of these plants are needed to hold the rocks together, but the same person who told you that could well tell you, the following day, that the plants are destroying the wall.

This conflicting advice seems to me to have come from nature. We have massive rocky hills (mountains in fact) around us. The trees and shrubs to grow into these. Then fire comes through, too often and too close for comfort, and the vegetation is destroyed. The next wet and soggy winter the roots of the plants rot away, and the rocks loosen. Boulders come tumbling down when the weather is stormy, occasionally bouncing onto houses, cars, and on one occasion killing a young man. Luckily all these danger areas now have huge wire nets and fencing to protect us. (I remember, prior to this, writing to my family that should I be squashed by one of these boulders while out walking to just think "she was happy to go this way"). I've always had a "thing" about stones and rocks, love them!

Anyway, my observation is that, properly maintained as in free from intrusive plants, these dry-construction walls do literally look unchanged for centuries. The evil intrusive weeds must go!

This post is mostly in response to Helen who asked me for a photo of my stone wall on the vege gardening page where I asked for advice about getting rid of ivy.

Helen, here are the photos.

The wall in un-abused state; I have no idea how old it is, but as a rough guide for guesses, the house was last renovated in 1911. But it could be 500 years old too, like the stonework in the cantina of my ground floor apartment.

The former ivy hedge, taken out in 2007 and now regularly assaulted by me with mixes of vinegar and salt, boiling water, and hot oil. It was about five feet high and ran along the green wire fence. Dad spent days taking it out, and I have been attacking re-growth ever since. I think (scared to more than whisper) I am winning on this one. But as you can see, this photo taken from my place looking into the neighbouring property, I have an on-going battle here.
The wild fig-tree type plants that are the bane of my gardening life: these are at the top of the wall I am concerned about now. Note the result of the previous owner's philosophy that the wall will crumble if you kill the plant: that's a huge trunk up there, not a rock.
The ivy, starting in my neighbour's garden, and heading down to become my problem:
Work in progress this morning: (that's my open studio window up the top).
Another part of the boundary between us, this time I can reach quite safely without being afraid of toppling over. The "garden" above is his, the ladder down in mine...
His garden after I employed someone to clear our "mutual" pathway - seems that the only one who cares about maintenance is you-know-who... it was literally impassable yesterday and the last one to clean it was me, a few months ago (before the winter, probably). Things do grow incredibly fast, and we are having "tropical" storms every day, after temperatures in the early 30s. What looks like lovely soil is actually all the richly composted tree leaves on a concrete path. The tree was badly damaged in storms some time ago.
My olive trees, just to give you some context. The brown on the trunks is a mixture fighting some virus our hillside contracted a couple of years ago. This year I have taken drastic measures and wont pick this October/November, it's a year off after heavy pruning.
My folly, between my house and garden. Love my steps. They are solid, took two men days to construct, cost me an arm and a leg, then AFTER they were finished my neighbour told me that they would end up down the valley because I hadn't anchored them with iron into the rocks... sigh!
Looking down at the task in hand from my studio:
More ancient stones out my kitchen window - this is where the village women did the washing, and for hundreds of years was the village water supply.
And the village I love so much, view from my studio again.

And to give a wider context for those wonderful rocky walls, here is a late evening photo from a few days ago (after the evening storm had drenched everything - are we in the tropics now?) Not the best photo of the village, but the easiest for me to locate. I am on the lower edge of the village. 

Today I am grateful for a willing helper. 

valuable lesson

Sitting at my desk with a long black coffee (shhh, don't tell the Italians) I am contemplating my last three efforts. I choose that word carefully. To pick up something long after the inspiration has past, or to try to "fix" a bad composition, does take effort.

I try to learn from everything I do. So, coffee at computer, I am going to try to put into words what the last three works have taught me.

My heart is really in watercolour, but I also enjoy using stronger mediums at times. When painting in watercolour I am in a quieter, more contemplative space.

I can be more creative and adventurous in acrylic and oil because I can always paint over the canvas again. Paper is expensive and has a maximum of two lives.

My portrait skills need honing, they were better "once upon a long time ago".

I have enjoyed NOT painting with the sorrow of war in mind, but with frivolous subjects to entertain me. Legato this year (70th commemorations of the battles for Cassino) left me drained, exhausted, sad, and even "burnt out" perhaps.

My painting really has gone back at least forty years, but I think I understand what I am doing with colour so much more now. So, techniques revived from long ago, but more comprehension and hopefully better results.

I would like to paint more fantasy, something joyful to counter the shocking news we read and hear every day.

Notwithstanding the above comment, I want to paint small, precious works that take the viewer into an intimate place of memory. These would be in watercolour, perhaps then under resin like my works from 2005.

I instinctively paint using layers, so there is no way I will ever be content with a one-stroke application. This means that the free sketch that I aim for occasionally will never content me. (Take a good look at this example - I wanted to keep this light, bright, SIMPLE and spontaneous! )

I can only paint for five hours a day when using oils or acrylics. Yes, I paint much longer hours, and then I am too tired to be useful for anything else. Watercolour painting doesn't exhaust me the same. 

So what was the most valuable lesson from the last week of painting? 

Painting takes me to another space, it does begin to "fill me up" again, along with some gentle music, when the world has taken its toll on me. Much as I long to write more, I need to schedule in more painting time. It really is good for me. Perhaps being a painter is, something that I had begun to doubt, a real part of me. 

Today I am grateful for coffee. 

18 July 2014

cats on this scale are not obliging!

But time is up, my eyes are tired. This is as good as done. I may come back in with a tiny brush one day, just to make a bit more of the cats. Or not... they are not immediately obvious but are waiting to be "found" in the painting, and apart from the challenging stare of the one under the bougainvillea I think they are OK. There are a couple of changes made to make the composition work, but one of these has to be altered again. Can you spot it Kris?

Today I am grateful for hurdles overcome.

spot the cat?

Not finished, but becoming something I could put on the wall somewhere - yes I have some dark corners.

Now to decide where my hither-to-non-existent focal point might possibly be... I can see some areas to darken, some to lighten... this could be done by lunchtime if I eat late enough :)

And at lunch time: 
(Just how more "chocolate-boxy" can it get? Cats, it needs more caaats...)

At smoko time: 
Why not? Here they come. Now I know what I am doing for the afternoon, painting five cats - or should I leave it at three? 

Today I am grateful for perseverance. 

a minimalist studio?

Watch this space!

I am trying to reduce clutter in my life. Those of you who know me well will be snorting with suppressed laughter at this point. But wait - there's progress.

This week I have taken five bags of goods to be recycled, given away a bag of clothes, hair accessories and make-up to a most appreciative recipient, thrown out chipped or cracked glassware, and tossed out some "might be useful one day" bits and pieces of unknown origin or purpose.

The ideal in the studio is to accept, once and for all, that I am a watercolourist, and reduce those tubes to the minimum too. But every so often you just need... (mixed media, oil, acrylic, pencils, crayons... you get "the picture". Sigh...).

As I finish tubes or pots of paints I no longer rush out to replace them. In the past I have found it impossible to buy "just one" tube or pot. I am easily seduced by colour and paper. Currently I am painting using odd colours, mixing many hues from very little. Increasingly paint companies whose products I knew, understood, and trusted are altering the composition of paints and I can no longer instinctively know how one will react with another. The chemistry of colour has been blurred, smudged, spoiled. Eventually my cupboards will have very few of each, and my life will be less cluttered, as will my head and my studio.

Hence the "purge" of partly painted canvases at the moment. And now, once I have given away a painting promised to someone who helped with professional advice for no charge, and made more coffee for the worker cutting the grass, back to finish the painting from yesterday with bold, dramatic and interesting decisions. (Did I hear "yeah, right!" in the back of my head? Be gone, doubter).

Today I am grateful for good news from NZ.

17 July 2014

messing up in paint

Sometimes you just get it horribly wrong.

This is another sketch from the all-nighter in Fondi. It started like this, about three summers ago. A group of us painted on all four sides of the ArtCube. It is pretty much "first in best spot", so I take the top panels and leave bending to the ground to the younger ones.

This particular night I had to drive a lot further because a truck had jack-knifed, blocking the road. I didn't want to be finding my way home over unknown hills at 3 or 4am so I left at 1am, leaving the sketches on the cube. They were finally delivered to me many months later, long after any inspiration had flown. And so they stayed. Until now. 

Today I attacked this one: 
Mistake number one had been not adapting what I had in mind to paint, the interior of a walled court-yard seen through the entrance arch, something I had spotted and liked in another hilltop village. It is hard enough to keep up with conversation, paint with an audience, and deal with the less than comfortable conditions without having to focus on what to paint as well. So without thinking it through I painted what I could remember from the other town. 

Obviously, I needed a portrait canvas, not a landscape one. Think, plan, adapt, DON'T rush in just because you feel you need to start! 

Today it has ended up looking like this (or would if I were to crop it, which I could do if I like it after tomorrow's effort on it). 

I'm beginning to think I could do something with it. Maybe. 

These photos show you how I got to what you see above, including all the mistakes I made along the way. Why didn't I simply paint out the image and start all over again with the canvas, now released from the cube, turned to the way I wanted it? Sigh... 

Who knows what tomorrow will bring? I might be inspired to really do something with it. Or... not!
(Wonders if the neighbour's bougainvillea might just hold the key...)
And later this evening: 

OK, It's never going to make the grade. But at least, as all creative mentors urge, I have painted today, and no doubt I will keep daubing away at it until I do run out of paint completely (now down to five acrylic colours and white).  It's so overly chocolate-boxy I'm tempted to add a cat... or three ;)

Waiting for inspiration doesn't cut it when painting is your day job and even with lesser paintings you keep learning - what NOT to do!  And once I have "dealt with" all these canvases that have been languishing, I can go back to my beloved watercolours. YES! That's where I really want to be :) 

Today I am grateful for four-legged company in the studio. 

not quite

Out of the context of an ancient and rustic home with heavy furniture she probably looks a little odd, but I am happy to leave her for now and move on. A little distance from her will help me see the things I need to fix to shape her face more; there are a few things to do but not too many. Right now I wish I had painted this from scratch, with the festival in mind. I would have had a much more sparkling and happy face than this little one.

It is an odd size, a canvas made up for the ArtCube group where we all paint on a huge cube - an activity that is fun but challenging, to say the least. This painting is 33cm high, and about 37 wide.

The strong under-painting of yellow is glowing as I look at the painting on the studio wall, and I am quite pleased about that.

In the context of a medieval festival in an ancient town she will sit well and children will stop and chat to me. I like that :) it helps pass the time, is stress-free, and gives me many smiles.

(Note to self: Kay you know better than to paint an imaginery person front on with no real light source).  

Next please, there are a few more to finish and repaint. It's time to move on. This is work, and it is now 9am. The next one was from the same night in Fondi, where I could hardly see what I was doing. It is an archway, very loosely painted. Can I complete it yet still keep it loose? Mmmm... that's a challenge!

Today I am grateful for milder temperatures and clear air. 

16 July 2014

a long afternoon

Paint something medieval for Fossanova, he said. Yeah right! I don't remember much about those times, except perhaps being locked in the stocks with my feet through the boards. But one does like to oblige... (images from the festival in other years are here).

This little one wash sketch was from a notte bianca (all night festival) in Fondi, some time ago, where it was mostly painting in the half-dark. A sweet little girl was watching me paint, so of course I began to paint her. Her father wanted to buy the painting, but I couldn't detach it from the group board. I started another, (the sketch below) and then she disappeared.

So, in the theme of taking these unfinished "excursion paintings" and turning them into something I could perhaps use, I tried turning this little sketch into something that might possibly come across as medieval in the right setting.

No, of course it isn't finished... you know me better than that :)

Today I am grateful for Ella Fitzgerald and Chet Baker.