My heart welcomed Tuscany although it was I who entered. Seven years ago, May 31, 2005, my brothers and sister, and I lost our father for the second time and finally. This is a sad day for me although outside, the sun is shining brightly surpassing the summer cumulus clouds; the poppies, calendula, and malva exalting in the persistent greens of the season; blackbirds, finches and swallows sing out and swoop down from their nests.
After our father flew, we huddled together, mostly metaphorically, in an anglo-saxon american mode; our mother cried out and protested loudly..sometimes against us.We hid and preened our feathers or jumped about looking to divert her.
Flight: it was an educated whim and a warm escape to a magical world…now my home and inspiration.
When we were little and our father a research scientist, we often went with him gathering specimens…in 2005, it was my sister who “went” first, 30 days later my father…oil on rice paper applied to wood panel.
In Italian “still life” is “natura morta” which is a little more than still, I would say, and less appetizing than Cezanne’s oranges!!! Anyway, once in a blue moon I actually do nature morte or still lifes but it is rare..mostly I create life size ones in which I LIVE, not paint..but I realize that my banner picture ..?..has a still life and since my dear friend Patrizia wants me to paint a few, I think I should COMMENT : ok, I’ve lost my enthusiasm for these ..because as I ‘ve said, I make them to live in, and I have developed into a lover and reallizer of unstill things!!!..the wind blowing the trees, people walking down the road, the sun and clouds who won’t hold still.. as well as FACES…(if they hold still, there’s no life to interpret)…..there’s more challenge in moving, breathing, changeable subjects. But, don’t worry, Pat, I will do one, for you.
Well, this is the story of a day in the sun and wind and watercolors…a beautiful if slightly blustery day; off I go down the road, around the corner, avoiding recently rain-dug holes in the earth, down through the vineyards, once more along a muddy track until I get to my destination: a beautiful and colorful view of the Villa, the vineyards, the cypresses, the acacia, an enormous elm looking like some giant’s umbrella, the sun high and ultimately bright in a deep ultramarine blue sky crowded with large cumulus clouds, and fields of colza…which is a type of turnip, the flowers of which are a bright pale cadmium yellow, saturated not weak. Several tourists stop nearby to take pictures of this view and one of me…I pretend to be a grump and am good it…I want only to lose myself in my subject and paint……..what happens next??? the wind blows my carefully balanced water container over ………..the stream nearby is appealing and making full-water sounds but the banks are steep and muddy. I refuse to give in and so, excuse me, but I spit. A solution. 8p
Almost too much but not yet….fortunately, at this time of year there is a lot of variety in those greens out there…ones not to be taken straight from a tube some maybe, but the challenge of getting the green the right green is a good one. Let’s put it that way. In this part of the world the olive tree is the one to get, and depending on the angle of the light and the color of the sky it’s leaves can go from a golden silver (so not green?) to terra verde, to chrome…the painting accompanying this post (I hope) was done in another time, but it displays that warm green of the grass and the silvery sometimes towards violet olive.