My blood is up!

Don't really have an image to go with this grumbly post, so I thought I would show off my new couch in the Winter Palace. (I have two cottages here which I refer to as the Winter and Summer Cottages, but a friend upgraded them to Palaces, I think just a tad ironically.) Red colour incidental.

I have just discovered that as a resident, I need to get a French driving license, and as New York State does not have a reciprocal agreement with France, I have to take written and driving tests to obtain one. The Préfecture referred me to a local driving school to prepare for these tests, but when I discovered that this was going to set me back a cool 600 or so euros, I objected. Finally the lady at the Préfecture allowed that I could take the tests after just one hour of practical driving with the school as a Candidat Libre. The written Code de la Route is notoriously difficult to pass and I am dreading it, but last night the school called me up to ask me why I hadn't been by to register. When I explained to the lady that I was being allowed to take the written test as a Candidat Libre, without having to attend driving school, she snorted. "You'll never be able to pass it without us!" she declared angrily, as she saw her 600 euros slipping away...

Thank you Madame. Your sarcasm has transformed my dread into determination!

Good food, good wine, and above all, good company

Lost a good friend this year after a protracted illness. She was cared for up to the end by a loving spouse who refused all invitations to go out for several years.

So missing their company, a couple of us decided to form a sort of monthly luncheon club. We discussed ahead of time who would cover which course, which we prepared before arriving at the home with its formal table setting on the terrace or dining room, depending on the season.

Sometimes confronting difficult situations straight on has its rewards. Outsiders who heard about our sorties became a little envious as our culinary efforts progressed and conversation flourished, occasionally spiced up an eminent guest we allowed entry for the day.

(A typical meal starting with a scallop timbal and followed by Bouef Bourgignon.)

Drawing- the foundation of art

My mother, who painted under the sobriquet FAAF, was an excellent draftswoman. She drew the head of the man when she was an art school student. (Note the correctly positioned ear her teacher sketched in on the upper right.)

Feeling a little lost with my current drawing and painting, I tried to sketch tonight's thirteen year old model in the classical tradition, an approach foreign to me as a student. Then I began a painting, which although somewhat rough, succeeds in capturing the ambiguity of this interesting young girl not only poised somewhere between a child and adult, but also between lad and lassie. I spent about an hour each on the drawing and the painting.

I painted Zoë in oils two years ago- picture below.

Clan Destin summer workshop

Last July, I was invited to a two day workshop at the Clan Destin (a play on words of course), a very 60'ish theatre/pub/art center hidden in the countryside not far from where I live.

A lovely gymnast/actress had been hired to pose for us, moving very slowly and sometimes stopping for a few minutes, inspired by different kinds of music. Some of my fast sketches were just smudges and I had to clearly define hands and fingers to explain what was happening in them. Sometimes I took visual/mental snapshots from which I worked for a couple of minutes, refraining from looking back at the model so I could record a more detailed moment in time. Every hour we stopped to look at each others drawings and the model changed her outfit.

I don't think I have ever had such concentrated creativity and came home absolutely exhausted at the end of the day. Reviewing and reflecting on my 100 or so sketches several months later, I find them not too shabby! Here's a slide show of a selection:

A Radiant Model

The Monday life drawing group was in for a special treat this month. A beautiful, radiant and very pregnant model posed for us.

We were all aware of an intimate dialogue between the expectant mother and her son.