Escape

OK, 'fess up time. I'm not into this blogging stuff. And I am not really into French winters either. I am, ahem, in Cape Town for a couple of months, munching on lotus flowers. But managing to get some work out between tai chi, swimming, mountain walks and reading. This is the jacket I am working on for a wonderful story I am illustrating about Somalian refugees.

Lunch with Madame Murat

Had a late birthday lunch with friends today at a new country restaurant- new to me anyway, though it has just celebrated it's 100th anniversary and has survived through five generations of the same family, and two world wars. An Australian francophile, Mary Moody, has just come out with a wonderful book on the restaurant. I have swiped a few of her photos as well as her book title for my blog. If you can't get to the restaurant, buy the book! (Better for you waistline...sigh.)

Winter harvest

Quinces and squashes litter the stone steps up to my studio. I grab a few to paint before turning them into preserves and soups over the wood stove.

A spot of warm color on a grey day

On the way to my studio, bright orange persimmons hanging in my neighbour's barn caught my eye. The illustrations for a book about the Sudan would have to wait.

An Unexpected Invitation

There are always adventures when my painting workshops move into the field. In September, I took my group to Loubressac where we planted ourselves in front of the formidable gate of the redoubt itself- the Chateau. Someone in pedal pushers and flipflops came through the gate and bustled around us with a witch's broom. "J'espere que nous ne vous derangerons pas..." I ventured. "Not at all," she replied. "If we have to leave, we'll just drive over you."








A few minutes later, we were impulsively invited in to tour the courtyard, the garden with its magnificent views over the Dordogne valley, and even the chateau by the chatelaine herself, whom we had mistaken for the housekeeper.