Blistering cold in Rignac, but as long as I press rolled towels at the bottom of the door to keep out draughts and the woodstove chock-a-block, the barn is pretty toasty.
I don't really do any teaching in the Monday evening drawing class unless someone asks me to review their work. But one thing I mentioned last week was that the ends of arms and legs need to be resolved in well observed and drawn hands and feet.
As if there weren't enough feasts at this time of the year... My good friend Elisabeth invited me to the Truffle Festival in Cuzance on Saturday. We spent the whole afternoon contending with
• Duck breast with truffled mashed potatoes and Cahors wine
Was rousted from bed this morning by a phone call from someone in St Céré. She has my new pants that I threw by mistake into the garbage three weeks ago!
I came across an interesting word recently: neoteny. The dictionary defines it as "the retention of juvenile features in the adult animal." It struck a chord as throughout my adult life, I seem to have irritated and subsequently been dismissed by some serious acquaintances for my playful disposition.
I started Early - Took my Dog -
TOO STUPID TO LIVE!
My dizziness is finally dissipating and I have been going for long afternoon walks with Thabo using my two walking sticks to stabilise me. I am not quite ready to return to Gym Tonique. The poles come in handy when tramping across uneven slushy fields. Temperature is in the 60's, which is great, except we have suddenly been inundated with flies as all their natural predators like lizards and bats have gone to sleep for the winter.
A few evenings ago, I got up from my bed and the room swirled around me so violently that I had to grab a chair to prevent myself from falling over. The next morning and following few days showed no improvement, so I asked a friend to drive me to the doctor. 
My pictures are pegged on washing lines in my studio. One of these pictures were reworked and three are untouched. When I enter the room, the fresh ones are striking, the reworked one has turned into sentimental mush. Sometimes one needs to overwork and destroy to learn.
A series on learning the basics of drawing, presented by the artist and author James McMullan. Line By Line begins with installments on line, perspective, proportion and structure, and continues from there, using examples from art history to illuminate specific issues. Pencil and paper recommended.
This is not a sculpture.
While in London last week, I discovered that October is the month of The Big Draw, promoted by the Campaign for Drawing. All the museums were taking part with cool workshops. My friend Adrian and I attended one at the National Gallery on chiaroscuro. Paintings of Caravaggio, like the one at left, were projected onto a screen as the moderator explained the term: dramatic strong contrast between light and shade. Then two models appeared, appropriately dressed, and took up positions at a table with a glass of wine and grapes, imitating the painting projected behind them, and posed for 45 minutes, lighted by a bright spot, while we sketched them in pencil or charcoal. My sketch is below.
Later that day I went to two more workshops at the National Portrait Gallery and spent Saturday with my friend Jude at the British Museum. One of the workshops there involved drawing real artifacts that we could handle, examine and draw in the way that archeologists document them. We also attended an interview by Alaisdair Sooke with of one of Picasso's models, Sylvette David.
The Monday evening life drawing group has started up again after a summer break. 
The weather was a bit iffy so I was worried about where the class could paint in case of a downpour, and then suddenly in the middle of the night I thought of the Moulin de Cougnaguet, a fortified mill on the l'Ouysse river, built in the fourteenth century by Cistercian monks. It milled flour commercially until 1959, and it is still fully functioning. You can see the interior here.
Just before we packed up to leave, one member of the group noticed the reflection of the mill in the water. It would have made an interesting composition, if we had remembered to bring our waders.
Last year it was tomatoes, this year I have nothing but pumpkins in my vegetable patch- about forty of the little suckers. Some are too heavy to heave into my wheelbarrow. They make delicious soup however if you braise chunks in olive oil, butter, onions, garlic, sweet curry powder and fresh ginger. When tender add chicken stock and season and blend with one of those contraptions you stick in the pot. Garnish with a dash of cream and some freshly chopped chives. Delicious (though I don't think I will be able to swallow another spoonful this season...sigh.)
I always feel a little guilty when I eat the subject of a painting.
Enthusiastic and interesting watercolour students from three continents, fresh local produce at meals, good weather = a great workshop.
A couple of weeks ago, I looked for a favourite necklace of old large blue glass trade beads strung either side of an antique silver Arabian amulet. It was an indulgent purchase acquired in Nairobi, where I had just spent a week teaching at the International School
Woke up at seven this morning and cycled into Soulac-sur-Mer. It was market day. There was a wonderful selection of fresh fish and shellfish, the specialty of course being local oysters. (Apparently the "R" rule no longer holds sway in July and August.) Then I visited the the lovely little church that was dug out of a sand dune a hundred years or so ago, downed a kir, and wobbled home on my bicycle and collapsed into the hammock.
Spent this afternoon swimming, in spite of Thabo's constantly trying to drag me out of the waves and onto the safety of the beach. And trying to capture the shimmering late August afternoon sea in watercolour.
• Unfortunately, my car needed a new fuel pump.• Unfortunately, someone seems to have knicked the GPS out of my car.
• Fortunately, friend Ronnie lent me his navigation system.
• Unfortunately, my car doesn’t have a cigarette lighter and the GPS ran out of juice just as we got to Bordeaux, the tricky bit of the journey.
• Fortunately, we got here anyway and I was able to pitch my tent just before dark in a quiet spot in the pine forest and Thabo and I were able to take a lovely walk on the beach.
• Unfortunately, the batteries in my lamp were dead.
• Fortunately, my cell phone has a flashlight.
• Unfortunately, I forgot a camp chair and table, air mattress, pillow and bog roll.
• Fortunately, I brought a hammock.
• Unfortunately I didn’t have any rope. And a rock band started up in a disco on the other side of the trees soon after dark.
• Fortunately I did remember to bring fresh white peaches for breakfast, coffee, a coffee press AND a kettle!
• Unfortunately, I forgot a mug…and so it goes.
Nevertheless, as you can see from the picture, it's GORGEOUS here and Thabo and I are having a blast!
Well, today I Fedexed off the illustrations for After the Kill to the States and finished the portrait of a young friend.
I think I could be justly accused of cherry-picking when it comes to religion.
Yesterday I was asked to participate in the jury for the annual painting competition in Thegra. I was immediately drawn to this colourful painting. "This painter is visually impaired so we will need to give him a prize too," said the organizer. "But I think it's beautiful!" I replied.
