Dear G.,
My next flurry will undoubtably be Morisot. He is a completely new discovery for me and thus very exciting.
For now, a small taster:
Lovely, non?
I am home, at long last. The house is icy but the sun is beautiful and there is lovely music on the radio…things have a loveliness to them that outweighs stiff fingers.
A.
Dear G.,
No polar bears yet but I do have a smallish run of Cézanne if you’d bear with me?
A.
Ps, I love your stairs – whose are they? Where are they?
Dear A.
How are you? It’s been a few days now hasn’t it?
I love staircases.
It’s just as well, as a very steep one separates my apartment from the rest of the world.
There is so much mystery, so much hope in a staircase. Going up or down one is sort of a pause, a little journey in itself. You’re free to think about what ever you like, you’re not inside anymore but you’re not outside either. It’s just a little “empty” moment…
Hope you are well,
bisous, G.
Dear G.,
I…did not draw fish. I apologise. I drew more birds. Will you accept them, take them to your bosom and love them?
Bise,
A.
It took just one whiff and my heart started to dance madly: we went to get our Christmas tree! The potency of the scent…. I was instantly transported back to those lovely long-gone days when I was a little kid and wore mittens.
And I loved porridge. And Mary Poppins. And lychees.
How are you ma très chère A? I got back a while ago, am sitting here admiring the tannenbaum!
I hope to see you tomorrow.
G.
La Specola
Palazzo Pitti
Legitimate intervention on behalf of karma. Some people just Have porcupine-to-the-ear coming to them.
A.