Painting Paris. Painting France. The vivid colors of day to day life mixed in with the fantasy and history. The stuff of dreams: Golden baguette, blue shutter, red checked cloth, a dab of red wine, a splash of the Mediterranean and a touch of Marie-Antoinette.
The ever changing scene caught with a paint brush.
Where does your paint brush take you? Where do the colors blend in, or do they fade away, add texture, give highlight? Does the line between dream and daily life blend? Or does it bring contrast?
Is life pale blue, with hints of green shoots?
Yesterday mine was grey with lightening.
What would you add to your canvas?
Romance at twilight,
Soft shades of mystery?
What kind of artist are you?
Do you sketch details out in your mind first? Or do you get in and get your hands dirty?
I tend to stare at the paper for a long time...blank allows pregnant thoughts to emerge, or if truth be told:
Last minute is my best friend for motivation.
I find it intriguing how something can brew within without knowing, without direction, or plan. How the unconscious mingles with reality, sparks dreams, tugs at one's desire then seemingly effortless, as a whim, it appears and the scene is made whole.
Is the daily canvas lick-able, nourishing to your soul?
In some way isn't it that ideas, thoughts, even friend's and warrior's messages stack up in the back of our closet, such as clothes we hope to wear one day. I wonder what color they would create, if I didn't clean them out from time to time.
Each moment creates a scene,
even if brief,
a history in a second,
a dab of color,
is a dab of color,
striking or subtle,
each stroke leads to another,
to paint a picture.
Wine, the back side of a canvas
and two boys in long aprons talk about the meaning of life.
A dab of
two empty glasses.
Memories, moments, blending that is how it is, isn't it?
Waiting for someone to come, sit down, make the scene complete.
What color are you today?