When Bordeaux Was the Promised Land

With all of the cultural activites shut down because of Covid, there was lots of time to draw. People were very excited to get out of the house and pretend everything was ok.

Way back in the Jurassic age we went to Bordeaux. It was a funny time — June 2020. Covid had been raging for three months but news started to leak out that the end of the pandemic was nigh.

If only!

We had been chewing our knuckles for a while and we thought we might venture out to see how the world was doing, while it was legal. France had a pretty rigid movement restriction which had been temporarily lifted. Driving down to Bordeaux seemed like a good idea. There were many Covid rules, but lots of people —particularly the young — were brazenly walking around without masks. You wore masks in stores, and restaurants had tables a meter apart. The hotel manager was over the moon to see us. “This must be the turning point!” he chirruped.

If only.

Bordeaux is a beautiful town and is one of the central hubs of the French wine industry. In normal times you can visit wineries and go to tasting classes. All of this was closed down along with the theaters and museums. We did the best we could under the circumstances – spending our time wandering the streets and hanging out in cafés, which was not so bad. I managed to do a watercolor of a splendid North African market over in front of the Basilique Saint Michel (see page 6). You can see that mask wearing was not comprehensive.

When you visit French cities on the western coast of the country you start to recognize the lasting impact of the early trade routes, including the slave trade. Bordeaux is a port on an estuary that leads out on to the Atlantic. Ships from Africa would stop off on their way to the Americas. There are beautiful old administrative buildings, wide squares, and elegant town houses, all dating suspiciously back to those times when human trafficking was a lucrative concern for a number of European countries.

In commemeration of this very dubious time, Haiti donated a bust of Toussaint Louverture, the great rebel slave leader. A statue of the slave Modeste Testas was also commissioned, among other public art displays.

Some streets are named after ship owners and traders who were involved in the trade. Instead of changing the names of the streets, explanatory plaques were put up to place these creatures in their

creepy historical context. Perhaps we can learn a thing or two from history, though honestly they could maybe add some adjectives, like “horrendous” or “atrocity”.

This is a very touchy subject. I’m glad Bordeaux is being more open about acknowledging it’s history. This is a good article with more details.

We enjoyed our trip. The plan is to go back soon and do a wine tour with wine tastings and wine baths — a sort of real thing! Read about it here.

In retrospect it was a miracle that neither of us got Covid, though maybe we did and we avoided a full blown case.

Covid times were pretty grim. It’s no fun to revisit them. But we can’t forget what happened, and maybe we could learn a thing or two for the next time there is an international pandemic?

If only. Lmc

This article appears in the June 2023 issue of Living & Painting in France. To get your subscription click here. It’s free!

Good Times in the Bad Weather

Paris in the rain can be magical

This is what cafés are made for.

Woody Allen’s film “Midnight in Paris” features eery and beautiful shots of Paris in the rain. You often see Paris in tourist photographs when the sun is shining and happy people are wearing shorts. A blue sky backdrops the Eiffel Tower, and the cafes are filled with interesting and stylish people.

But Paris in the rain has it’s own moody beauty. The cobblestones and ornate streetlights are slick and glistening, and the puddles flicker with raindrops. The people and buildings look soft and mysterious.

You’re usually chilled to the bone so you scuttle into a warm cafe. But if you’re up to it, a calm walk in the rain in Paris is a particular kind of experience.

I have revisited this subject a number of times in paintings and drawings. I’m still reaching for the atmosphere. The oil version of The Marais in the Rain is my most ambitious yet. It depicts the wet and winding streets where Haussmann pretty much left the neighborhood alone, and the older buildings dominate. It was a chilly day and we were on our way to an exhibition.

This was the scene before we gratefully entered warm and inviting gallery. But honestly the view outside was better than the one inside. Lmc

This article comes from Living & Painting in France, my digital magazine. Sign up here for your subscription. It’s free!

Seeing Paris Through a Newbie's Eyes

It’s a long day at the art fair. I usually draw my neighbors acress the way.

Once a year the Art’goat Association Artistique has an art fair in the town of Chateau Neuf de Faou. Perched on a hilltop, Chateau Neuf has a dramatic setting that swoops down into a forested river valley. There are campgrounds along the river and our art fair took place in a big (mercifully heated!) public building on the bank of the river. This year I made a decent breakthrough connecting with some of the french visitors.

We went to the Louvre of course. The routists are back now and every other voice I heard was American.Watercolor.

It was a bit of a scramble. I had to rush back from Paris where I had met up with some American art pals who were in town for a visit. These days Paris is a place I can visit easily and can easily take for granted. My American friends, however, had not visited for years. For them this was a monumental visit, a grand adventure to be savored and celebrated.

I think I’m getting a little blasé about Paris, even though I do a lot of watercolors of the place.

A glorious sunny day at Huelgoat. Oils.

It was fun to see the city through their starry eyes. We did touristy things, museums, a boat ride and strolling through cool neighborhoods.

We even went to “the best chicken restaurant in Paris” the “Coq & Fils” where we met up with some of Leslie’s Paris crew. It was a glamorous, cosmopolitan night in Montmartre with friendly, knowledgable waiters and delicious food. I can dine out on that night for a while, if you know what I mean.

I appreciated Paris all over again.

Acress Anna Karina in a movie still. Egg tempera.

As a slightly schizophrenic artist, I have three channels of artistic direction. There are the watercolors of European cities and landscapes – mostly Paris but other sites as well. There are larger oil paintings along a similar thematic vein. And then there are my recent series of egg tempera paintings exploring beauty and nature and big attitude.

My impromptu Paris visit has given me a beneficial kick in the behind. There are several summer exhibitions to prepare for, and I am working myself into a painting frenzy to get ready. Good times!

The days are longer and the sun is finally making an appearance. This is the nicest season to be in this part of the world.

Happy spring everyone!

An Unusual and Classy Christmas Present

While I always love the Christmas season, these days holidays, birthdays, and other celebrations demand that we buy presents for people who have everything they need or will ever want. A commissioned artwork can offer a very personal gift that encapsulates what the giftee loves, or something that represents their view of the world.

President Kennedy in a rocking chair, by William F. Draper.

I’m not the first painter in the family to paint commissions. My grandmother’s cousin William Draper was a “society painter” in the decades following World War II. He lived in New York and painted formal portraits of well-to-do, and well-known politicians and captains of industry. He painted some actual presidents including NIxon and Kennedy. When he painted Kennedy, the president was posed in a rocking chair. Apparently Jackie was not amused. Cousin William said, ”What did she want, a throne?” It did not end up as the official presidential portrait but was sold and is currently for sale through the Artemis Gallery.

President Barack Obama, by Robert McCurdy, and First Lady Michelle Obama, by Sharon Sprung.

I thought of this when I saw those two new Obama portraits. It’s easy to read symbolism into every aspect of a painting. She’s sitting, he’s standing, she’s relaxed, he’s upright but casual. She’s on a chair and he is in a white void. I like the portraits. They are beautiful likenesses, but I’m not sure why he is in that empty white room. What’s the symbolism there?

Portrait of a daughter, by Louisa McCabe

With these ideas in mind, I will be offering commissed paintings this fall for Christmas. There are different kinds of commissions. A portrait can be entail sitting for many hours, like what cousin William did. Or you can choose a photo of a place or your favorite people and have them recreated as a painting, either as a faithful reproduction or as a jumping off point for the artist’s vision.

We can discuss you or your giftee’s life, goals, people or places, or cherished objects. These can be incorporated into the artwork. You can let me do my thing, or be part of the process every step of the way.

Local market painting showing different generations of the family working the tables, by Louisa McCabe

I once did a portrait of a dear friend who died. Unfortunately the photo of this portrait got lost. Bob loved skittle bands and played the washboard. His face was the main focus of the painting, but faintly in the background you could see the translucent images of him playing the washboard with the rest of the band. It was very sad but also comforting to see him in a notional heaven, doing what he loved.

The ancient Puente de la Magdalena in Pamplonam by Louisa McCabe. My parents got engaged in Pamplona and I finally managed to visit. I suppose Pamplona kind of played a part in my existence. I bet they walked over this bridge all those years ago. What are some of your favorite places? How would you like an artistic evocation of that time or place?

There are only 12 weeks until Christmas. A commission can take from two to six weeks depending on the size and complexity. In order to give your present the proper time and attention I will need to start the process before the first week of November at the very latest.

What do you think? I’d love to discuss any ideas you may have, and to find out if we could work well together. If you want to a commissioned artwork by Christmas, that would be step one.

Cheers all. Louisa

Women in the 19th Century Couldn't Catch a Break

The town of Tours is in central France, about an hour’s train ride south of Paris. It is has two rivers (the Loire and the Cher), a beautiful old medieval quarter, and an excellent cathedral. Though oddly lacking in the cafe/bar department, there are plenty of nice restaurants in the center.

Before The Ball, the distateful business of feeding the baby.

The other week we went for a visit and found, like many provincial cities, a small but excellent museum.

The collection is spread over several floors, the higher up you go the younger the paintings.There are some of the well-known famous artists, like Degas or Monet, but like many rural museums they show a lot of excellent, kind of second string artists. You may not have heard of them but they were a big noise in their day. They just didn’t make the posterity cut, so to speak.

The top floor had some very interesting 19th century images of women.

Coffee? Tea? Bloody decapitated head?

The 19th century was a peculiar time for women. Civilized society tried to repress even the idea of sexuality, There was a lot of head shaking and finger wagging around judging proper behaviour.

Before the Ball by Edourd Debat-Ponsan.shows a woman breast feeding — a natural thing for a woman to do — literally surrounded by judging people. Her husband has a twisted expression of stern disapproval and arousal. The maid looks very censorious.

Then there is Judith Victorius by Eugène Thirion. This tells the story of Judith and Holofernes. Holofernes was an Assyrian general who was about to destroy Judith's home, the city of Bethulia. He gets drunk, passes out, and Judith sneaks into his tent and cuts his head off.

Carvaggio’s version is a little more subtle.

This is a well-known scene in the history of art. I went to a whole exhibition of paintings of Judith & Holofernes last summer, and they were all a lot more like this Caravaggio (which wasn’t in the Tours museum). This is more typically horrific and violent.

But the 19th century one presents Judith as a quite placid, well-dressed upperclass matron who happens to have a decapitated head to hand. Always be a lady, even when committing bloody murder.

What do you think is going on here?

Then we have the multi-titled, Dynamis, or The Machine, or The Red Coal by Jean Veber.

What on earth is going on? You have a naked woman straddling some kind of machine that is driving flywheel that is grinding up tiny men. Does she just hate men? Does she represent Industry that is destroying mens’ lives? A rampant naked woman is used to symbolize the destructiveness of the modern age, even though it was 99.9% run by men. In the 19th century everything was a woman’s fault.

It been has always complicated to be a woman. When everything is your responsibility – morals, finances, child care, men’s sexual appetites – it’s gets hard to live. And if you accidentally got pregnant your were thrown out of your life and had to move away, sometimes without your baby. Also, you had to go through city all day without anywhere to pee. It was deemed inpolite to acknowlege the bodily functions of females. Tough times.

A very interesting collection of paintings. Things were challenging for women back then. They are challenging now too, but at least we have public toilets.

i highly recommend Tours and this museum. There are lots of other artists represented from over the past thousand years 987out there who are not mentioned in the art history books but are well worth a look. And if you are visiting Tours I also recommend you find a hotel near to the center for a better choice of restaurants.

What War Means From An Artist's Point of View

Art & War: Notes from a Peace-lover

Buildings in Kiev. I hope they survive the onslaught.

Right now, Ukraine is on everyone’s mind. It doesn’t matter where you land on the political spectrum, there is a horrible disastrous war taking place. Ukraine is a struggling democracy on the border of the full-on autocracy of Putin’s Russia. It is rare to see so many countries around the world agree on anything, but a majority are taking sides against Putin and his destructive dreams of empire and dominance.

I am a painter who likes to travel to beautiful places and paint them. There are a lot of us out there. And in general we humans enjoy visiting beautiful cities and landscapes. It’s a natural thing to experience.

Somewhere in the center of Kiev.

I found some tourist photos of Kiev on the internet dating from 2008, link below. These drawings are inspired by those photos.

The images on the news coming out of Ukraine remind us that the blunt sword of war can destroy thousands of people but also centuries of culture. Buildings, villages, the evidence of lived lives are being smashed and torn apart by Putin’s horrific weapons. We have yet to know the true numbers of people who have been displaced, maimed, or murdered in this grim onslaught.

Ukraine is culturally strong and Ukrainians are incredibly courageous. The Ukrainian people are declaring their identity and standing up to the invasion. It is an impressive example to us all, and I hope we in the west can support them in any way that we can.

I’ve never been to Ukraine but I’m told the cities and the countryside are spectacular. One day I’ll gather a group of artists and we will go and paint the country. In the meantime history shows that wars can be devastating to the heart and fabric of a nation. Let’s all do what we can to make sure that doesn’t happen.

Ways to Help

Please be aware that in times of crisis scammers appear and try to rip off good-hearted people who are trying to help. Here is a short list of verified organizations where you can safely donate or volunteer.

International Rescue Committe

https://www.rescue.org/

Care

https://www.care.org/

Amnesty International

https://www.amnesty.org/en/

Airbnb

Airbnb has created a program for people to host refugees.

https://www.airbnb.org/refugees

images from

https://anatoliosblog.blogspot.com/2008/12/kiev-kyiv-city-capital-city-of-ukraine.html

Egg Tempera & the Curse of Cellphones

Here’s a short video on a subject dear to my heart: cellphones are taking over the world! See what you think.

Paris in September and a Long-Delayed Visit to Mona Lisa

A less-crowded view Tour Eiffel.

The sibilant tinkling of the garbage men slamming the trashcans around at 6 in the morning, the melifluous late night sirens, the jolly honking of angry motorists: We finally made it to Paris!

After waiting months for a second jab, we got on a train up to Gare Montparnasse and met up with my step son, and just acted like tourists for a couple of days.

Paris was being pretty disciplined about Covid. You wear a mask in stores, on public transportation, and in museums. You show your QR code which proves your double vaccination when you go to a cafe or restaurant. The French have an excellent system where they give you the QR code on paper. You can also snap a photo and have it on your phone.

I walked a lot, did some drawing, took loads of reference photos for future painting ideas. I got up early one morning and walked up to the top of Montmartre to look out over the city from the Cathedral of Sacre Coeur. A peaceful scene. There was an unexpected wedding party (this was 8 o’clock in the morning) who came to take photos in the morning light. Several other young men were milling around and had clearly been out all night. They were opening fresh beers. They were friendly though barely standing.

This is a small watercolor about 14” across. I’m still adjusting the color. I’m also thinking about making it a large oil painting.

I sat on the steep steps and drew for a while. The view stretches down the hill and for miles out over a tangle of apartment buildings, churches, schools, and warehouses. Most of the buildings are from previous generations. Paris has strict restrictions on building anything new, and certainly not above about six floors. So the streets are described by those atypical, elegant buildings that are constructed to fit into the haphazard, crisscrossed streets (a city of Flat Iron buildings), and the typical grand and ornate Parisian windows with filigreed, iron railings. This is a daunting subject to do as a line drawing. I am finishing it at home. I’ve tried this subject several times before. I’ll get it right eventually.

The inside of the Louvre is stupendous. The outside is not too shabby either.

A highlight of our trip was a visit to the Louvre. It’s been decades since I went there. Though I’ve been to Paris a number of times in those years I was always put off by the huge lines of people waiting to get in. Covid solved that problem this time. We bought the tickets online and just walked up. We showed them our QR codes and then we were in.

I forgot how many familiar paintings are in there. Everywhere you turned there was Art History 101: Ingres, David, Gericault, Goya, Da Vinci, Holbein, Turner, Fra Fillipo Lippi, and hundreds more. There were a lot of visitors but the only really crowded part was the rolling line in front of the Mona Lisa – of course. We could see it from the side of the room without queuing up, but everyone appeared to want selfies with it, and for that you had to wait. The guards threatened a €1,500 fine if you pulled down your mask for the photo. We moved on. There was plenty more to see.

I need to go back before the normal lines come back. Next time Grecian, Roman and Islamic Art. And possibly some Egyptians? The Louvre is Really Big. And really fun.

When you leave the Louvre and cross over to the Left Bank, you find the Sennelier art store. This is the original store that has been there since the 1880s, and where Degas bought his pastels. All the supplies are stored in the original old wooden cabinets with little drawers and weather-beaten shelves. Of course I spent more money than I intended but it is a magical place, like something out of Harry Potter. I pretty much go there every time I’m in Paris.

We strolled and chatted, had lunch with friends, spent time with the stepson who we hadn’t seen in person for two years. A truly happy experience.

It was a relief to be out and about and experience life as it used to be, at least for a little while. Covid is still with us so we need to cherish these chances to feel normal again.

Summer in the Country: Art is Coming to Life in Brittany

A big week here in Brittany. I am in two art shows, one in Callac and one in Huelgoat.

We artists gathered in Callac this morning to be interviewed by the local press. Woo hoo! Big time stuff. Local papers are still important in these parts. Each little town has an allocated page and we, of course, were top of the page.

It’s also market day in Callac. In the high summer this translates into more local market gardeners selling seasonal produce and lots more people turning up. Even though travel is restricted European tourists having been appearing. The market-goers were happy bustling around, chatting with pals, having their first apero of the day at one of the cafes. It was a jolly and lively scene this morning.

All the Callac paintings are watercolors. Wee are in the gallery at the tourist office.

On the edge of the market square is the tourist office/Maison de l’Epagneule (House of the Spaniel!). This is where our art show is taking place. Our commune is famous for Breton spaniels – long-legged shaggy beasts who are theoretically used for hunting. A friend of ours raises spaniels but he is very picky about who he sells them to. Often times the buyers get turned down because they are not deemed up to scratch. He really loves those dogs.

Many of the local hunters belong to organized hunting clubs who hold shooting competitions and boozy lunches during the season. Some of the members just turn up just for the lunches to get drunk, but others go out afterwards to slaughter the local boars and deer. Not a great time to go for a walk.

Anyway, part of the tourist office is dedicated to The Spaniel, with videos, photos, and historical information. The other part is a public gallery. It’s not very big but it has great lighting and the staff are helpful and friendly. They organized our little press junket. I was worried that we’d have to take the photographs with our masks on but thankfully the photographer was not that particular.

This is not the case for the French government. I don’t know if you heard, but this week Monsieur Macron is debating mandatory vaccines or proof of a recent test in public settings. Probably the safest thing to do but I don’t think the French are buying it. French society is a weird combination of requiring identity papers at all times and really resenting it.

Huelgoat paintings are oils. The show is hung in the building behind the church in the main square. The green wall looks good!

The other show I’m in is in Huelgoat, a larger town with a bit more going on in terms of cafes and forest walks. More visitors pass through Huelgoat so I’m hoping some will stop in at our gallery. The walls are painted a fierce pthalo green which concerned me, but in fact the paintings looked great with that background. Space was limited so the work is little squished together. Otherwise it looks pretty good.

In Huelgoat I’m showing larger oils. In Callac I’m showing watercolors.

In both of these exhibits I am showing places and situations that I love. When you look at these paintings you are out on the street, sitting in a cafe, talking with friends, looking at a beautiful view. I realize that both of these shows are depicting a kind of anti-lockdown. For me, interacting with these people and places and celebrating them is what life is about. The lockdown has simply amplified this feeling.

My next goal is to paint an outdoor music concert, packed with people! Let’s see what Monsieur Macron has to say about that.

Pleine Aire Painting At Crystal’s House

A side view of Crystal’s garden. Work in progress.

Last week my art group had an away day, an actual meeting outside to paint in the countryside! Or at least in Crystal’s back yard. After meeting on Zoom for the past year It was pretty exciting stuff. Zoom is better than nothing but not ideal.

Crystal lives on a quarter of an acre surrounded by old trees with a stream running through the grounds. She and her husband moved to France to retire about seven years ago, and what they have done to create their elegant garden is a clear example of why people retire to live in the French countryside. Huelgoat where they live, is notable for gigantic boulders left over from the last ice age. Crystal has arranged a turn on-and-offable waterfall to cascade down the truck-sized rock behind her house.

We painted for a while in the sunshine but since it had been months since we had met in person it was more of a gossipy catchup. So nice to see my friends in the flesh! I took a reference photo and worked on the painting the next day.

As in other countries there has been a flood of people leaving cities and buying up houses in the countryside, or buying them as a country getaway. From living in the back end of nowhere, all of a sudden we are considered chic. I have Paris friends who in the past have spoken of Brittany in a slightly sneery tone (bad weather, provincial etc). Not so much now.

We are approaching the best time to be in Brittany. The summer sunshine has finally arrived, the birds are tweeting like mad things, the flowers are flowering, and I can finally walk outside with bare arms. It’s a good time to be alive.

Feeling Good On a Sunny Morning in Brittany

This is a Breton cafe in Paris near the Montparnasse station.

Today France loosens it’s lockdown rules. This morning it was sunny and bright and we went to the local market. When we got there people were bustling about in a very jolly mood, and Heavens to Betsey the cafes were open! Well kind of. They are now legally open if everyone stays outside and socially distances.

They have set up gigantic tents outside the cafes. Surprisingly, this is easy in our teensy weensy little country town. The center of town is a big parking lot and the cafes just take over some spaces.

This is not the case in bigger towns where sidewalk space is at a premium. Small, cobbled streets are beautiful but not great for improvised, outdoor cavorting. In some towns they are levering in more people by installing plexiglass dividers. If you are going to invest in anything, plexiglass is probably a good place to start.

After we picked up our cheese and ham and creme fraiche, we managed to snaffle a table at the Cafe de la Place and ordered our first, cafe-made grande creme for the last seven months. At the table we could take off our masks. It’s been such a long time since I’ve seen lots of peoples’ faces in the same room. It was wonderful. Bretons are quite grouchy and taciturn but it was a real pleasure to see.

It turned out our neighbor was sitting down next to us and I did not recognized him. I hadn’t seen his face since September.

This is just the first phase of unlocking-down. The French government is taking baby steps towards normality. I suspect the French themselves are champing at the bit; this summer is going to see an avalanche of francaises out having a good time.

Let Nature Provide – How To Beat the Lockdown Blues

Plants temporarily parked on the kitchen floor.

Creativity is an odd thing. Throughout the lockdown many of us having been working harder than we ever have in our lives. For many others of us, we have been stuck at home with time on our hands.

What could be better? No commute, unlimited television/internet, and the freedom to waste your time the way you choose to. This is a dream for a lot of us nine-to-fivers: being your own boss and doing what we want, when we want. Ironically many of us have found it hard to be creative under these conditions

That weird disconnection from the world plus that weird dependence on the digital universe is somehow draining the creative impulse. I am one of those who is feeling creatively numb.

I’ve been painting and drawing away, keeping up a steady flow of works. But for me it’s been feeling lifeless, probably a reflection of my inner stress.

You need to move them when the sun shifts.

My answer to this is to let nature provide. The first day the plant seller turned up at our local market I went a little nutty and bought a lot of plants. I also sowed some early vegetables in little pots. All wrong of course, it’s way too early to think about putting anything into the ground.

I’m fussing around them like new kittens. Because it’s so early in the season, it’s really too cold for them to be outside. When the sun shines I drag them outside for an hour or two, then pull them back in when the temperature shifts. I’m watering them enthusiastically but probably too much. With any luck I won’t kill them all in the process.

The tomatoes need a lot of sunlight. Maybe electric bulbs?

If I can’t gain inspiration from my inner world, I can inspire myself from my little plantlings. The plan is to paint and draw these plants in still lifes before they die off or are transplanted into the ground.

On the positive side, “normal” life is not exactly around the corner but we can see it approaching in the distance.

For instance, in the UK they are attempting a modified opening of pubs and hairdressers and assorted fun – if not exactly essential – businesses. They have done a very good job with their vaccinations and I hope it works out.

France not so much. Around here things are a little slower. My husband got his first jab. It will be at least several weeks before I get mine.

First shot across the bow! More on the way.

Until my little world begins to crack open, expect some paintings and drawings of straightforward, happy flowers and vegetables over the next couple of weeks. It’s my answer to digital numbness and anxiety.

New life and a connection to nature is the way to go. Here’s to a healthy and connected future.

Turns Out Fear Makes You Human

Looking up the hill to Sacre Coeur in Paris. Click here for the print.

Fear is good. When you avoid potentially scary situations or pretend you’re not afraid, you can get into trouble. I’m terrible at parties where I don’t know anyone. Walking up and talking to strangers in a social situation makes me highly uncomfortable. If you don’t try you can also miss out on the good stuff like meaningful relationships or overcoming obstacles. Or hearing some funny stories at an otherwise boring cocktail party.

I’ve been thinking about fear lately. There are so many different kinds of fear. Irrational fear, stage fright, going to the dentist, lack of security, being dumped, losing a job, losing a loved one. They all carry their own particular potential pain or humiliation.

I experienced loss of loved ones when I was young. It took me years to figure out that I avoided not just pain but the fear of pain. I put myself in situations where the possibility of fear was less likely. Safe, boring, and predictable. I also ignored legitimate reasons to be afraid. Not smart. Basically creating a wall of non-feeling and foolish bravado.

You can end up living in a weird cotton-wool world where nothing much happens and you have processed white bread for every meal.

On paper I have lived an adventurous life. I worked as a freelance designer in New York and London, long before the gig economy took off. I had very few full-time jobs, I moved from country to country. This appears fearless and adventurous but it really meant running away from commitment to anything or anyone – avoiding the potential pain of navigating big relationships, personal and professional. It took me decades to fall in love with someone worth falling in love with.

It’s much easier to to appear adventurous on paper. Adventurous can also mean running scared.

These days, in a committed relationship with my lovely husband and a pack of trusted pals, I am trying to visually express this my current adventure in France — the good, the bad, and the painful. This has been curtailed by Covid of course. How do you paint cabin fever? Now that’s a challenge.

We are planning for the future. We are taking advantage of having nowhere to spend our money, and saving our pennies for some fun trips in the future.

My adventure in France includes getting scared, trying new things, seeing unexpected spectacular places, being stuck at home. It scares me. But I hate processed white bread.

Sitting in Place Emile Goudeau, a cool and shady spot on the way of the hill of Montmartre. Click here for the print.

The 21st Century Can Legally Drink Now

May you live in interesting times. — alleged Chinese proverb

2020 was a crazy awful year. While the twenty-first century has come of age and is now legally allowed to drink, it’s as if 2021 is suffering a massive hangover from 2020. Covid is still rampaging, a lot of us are stuck in our homes, and the US election is throwing up some “interesting” events.

I started a painting the other day, a self-portrait based on a Zoom photo. I’ m staring off to the side and I realized it’s a wondering expression. The fact is we can take all the action we want but at a certain point you we have to sit back and wonder what happens next.

A work in progress! I wonder what I’ll do next?

Over the holidays I was wondering a lot. Memories of family and friends, get togethers, big meals— good and bad— were swimming around my head. At the moment I plan to create a background to the self-portrait that contains hints of those memories. Or I might just cover them all up. Still wondering.

For me oil paintings take a lot longer than watercolors. With watercolors everything happens quicker, and while there is some leeway for adding and subtracting, you have to commit to a look and develop it. With oils you can endlessly tweak and chop and change. Titian would put a painting aside for six months then start tweaking again.

Don’t you wish you could do that with reality?

This is the courtyard at the Louvre, a pleasant place to stroll on a nice day. The original is available for $210.

You can when you paint. As a painter you are taking a long look at the world, and going through a process of assessment and interpretation. You can also look inward to your own memories and knowledge and imagination.

Painting as a mode of self-expression is a great comfort to me, especially when the world is going mad. I am taking from reality and my head and creating something new.

Happy New Year everyone. Things are getting better, I promise.

The New Reality of Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas

I have a more sentimental approach to Christmas than my husband. While he has a take it or leave it attitude, part of me still hearkens back to childhood Christmasess. It makes a difference when you have kids. They get so excited and it’s the big event of the year. For all my childhood pangs, our grown-up Christmas is nice, but not an Event in our yearly calendar.

Christmas carols come on the radio or are played in the supermarket and it sets the scene. A surprising amount of English language music is played in our local French market and carols are no exception.

For holiday-lovers, Covid has dampened the possibility of a get-together. We are having virtual drinks with my dear in-laws on Christmas Eve but that’s about the size of it.

So this is the year of Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas. Like it says in the song, we'll just have to muddle through somehow.

But we can step up. If 2020 has taught us anything it’s how to be resilient and proactive. I recommend to everyone that we show at least one kind gesture over the holiday break: knock on your neighbor’s door and say hello, or check in with a friend or relative that you haven’t see for a while. In these lockdown circumstances a little goes a long way.

And here’s to the new dawn of 2021. Happy holidays everyone!

RIP Harriet Black

When you paint and build frames you end up using a lot of glue and tape. Rabbit skin glue for canvases, wood glue for frames, double sided tape for float frames, acid free tape for watercolors—they are all needed for putting it all together and keeping it there. Each sticky product is the right kind for the job.

My friend Harriet died on Saturday. She was 93. She and several other friends of mine worked at the same organization back in the 80s. We all moved onto separate lives and countries, but Harriet doggedly kept in touch with us all. She would round us up once or twice a year and we’d all have dinner in the Village in New York City. We would go to her apartment on 9th street—she always rented, never bought—a real old-fashioned New Yorker. She would serve our favorite cocktails and we would step out to her favorite Italian restaurant, Lanza’s on First Avenue.

It is very easy to lose touch with friends, no matter how much you love them. We all lead busy lives, have complicated family situations, have ups and downs in our careers. Visiting with Harriet was a fun and friendly escape from normal life. We all knew each other, we didn’t see each other very often, but we always welcomed each others’ familiar faces and long-term relationships, even if we did not see each other for months or years.

All of this was possible because Harriet made the effort. She announced her plans and we would fall gratefully in line. And it turns out we were not the only ones. She had several workplaces across her storied career, and she organized get-togethers for old friends from all of those periods in her life.

She was the glue that kept us all together. The right kind for the job.

It is so easy to take people for granted, to drift apart, especially in these locked down times. My advice to all and sundry, be the glue. Be the person that makes the effort to maintain relationships. Drop someone a line, have a quick video hello, when you say you’ll stay in touch, stay in touch. It is easier than ever before in the history of the world to communicate yet we are all in danger of disappearing into our own little bubbles. Be like Harriet.

Harriet my friend I love you. You are a true inspiration. You are deeply missed.