oil, watercolor, sepia pencil, acrylic….trees, landscapes…
-
-
studies and sketches, falling in love with that sepia pencil… -
…well, except when Dominique and I were off having coffee and smoking…. -
We saw Fahrenheit 9/11 last night. I didn't expect it to be so funny, nor for the soundtrack to be so cheeky. It was the least "I'm Mike Moore" of his films I've seen, and very thought-provoking, though I found it a little dragging, off-topic and unconvincing in the middle. Some of the images were disturbing—not so much for their content nor his commentary, but the fact that I've never seen them before—I had no idea (or have no memory of knowing) that the election results (I use that term loosely) had been officially (almost) objected to by so many house members without a single senators support, for example. Where was that story? The sold-out theater was heavily french (it was subtitled and did, afterall, win Cannes' Palme d'Or), and I was again surprised to see so many elderly ladies in attendence. The applause at the ending wasn't surprising….wish they still did that on international flights.
-
We took the train over to Menton to visit Aunt Peg and Uncle Natale on Sunday. Bert sailed over, or so he intended. As he said last night: "An ill-advised trip."
He never made it to Menton. Forced to anchor in a small harbor only five miles down the road from his destination, he waited out the big seas. "Meringue waves" he called them. While Bert was being tossed like a salad, we enjoyed a great big lunch and alot of family yak-yak-yak on the terrace.
Natale was very concerned about Bert's well-being—-"Does he have food on the boat?" (pained expression—the horror of being without a proper meal!). No worries, there's always soup and crackers. Bert's tough.
He made it back to Antibes safe and sound, though a little ruffled. I love his description of fighting bigger and bigger waves in little Tishie Mae: "The Incredible Shrinking Boat". -
I'm exhausted, brain-fried, beat, bushed and battered. Oh, and happy. I've survived another week at Maison des Arts with my desire to 'paint better someday' intact. I believe I've made a satisfactory amount of progress this year, I'm especially pleased with my figurative work (which of course, is not a hot seller like the boats–damn boats!), but the more I work the more I feel I've got another decade to go before I'm able to reproduce on canvas what is in my mind. Well, that decade will pass whether I'm painting or not, so I'll just have to keep at it. I'll have photos posted in a few days.
-
-
They were huge. Well over six feet tall, and nearly as wide. Giants of the species: 'Obnoxious-Americanus-Onvacationus'. Draped in matching, yes matching, red floral oversized-print shirts and squeaking about in shocking-new-white sneakers, tree-trunk legs bare, there they were. Right in front of me, emerging from the museum's permanent collection, waddling in our direction. I had heard the tell tale voice first–from the male, booming like he was on stage–"I've been here so long I can understand French!" (he was listening to English–ha, ha, never heard that one before).
To be honest, I don't clearly recall the remainder of his attempts at witty conversation…I was too busy dodging, climbing observatory stairs I never intended to venture up (veritgo)…anywhere, anything to escape…
My classmates and museum going companions had a good chuckle—seems they could read my thoughts all over my face: "This is why I have to say I'm Canadian!" -
BBQ on Tishie Mae for the holiday—we managed to find some sort of sausages that resembled bratwurst..and they tasted pretty good too…Ruby certainly approved! -
Savannah, 1999/ New York City, 2002……coming soon to this space, "Antibes, 2004"….
Mike is coming! Mike is coming! I'm so thrilled— gorgeous, funny, lovely-in-everyway Mike is coming for a visit in mid-August–just in the nick of time while I'm still here! I better catch up on my sleep…Mike likes to have a good time. (and no, not what you're thinking.)
