Laurie paints very fast using the primary and secondary acrylic pigments. All were good painters, fully enjoying their time at the easel. I am lucky to finally paint for a living, and kind of wish I had made the shift earlier in life. Go to art school or not , be an artist!!! Follow your calling: it will make your life most happy. We took our Giverny car a day early, to go out to the Bois de Boulogne, in comfort. People are always impressed at the size and extent of the woods. There were still roses blooming in the Bagatelle, some quite fragrant.
I sat on the grass and painted the house in the distance, after a morning near the boats. The boat , our Monet Bateau-Atelier, is floating along. We have an American builder interested in it, and have some funding ideas. Along the banks of the Seine, people stopped to talk to all of us. Americans, mostly. I gave out cards, and encouraged people to pull up an easel.
A little French girl sat silently, watching one of our painters for nearly a half hour. People on the street, in the parks, are thrilled to watch the magic of painting.
We have wonderful conversations with our fellow painters. Rarely do they touch on politics or religion, things we were told never to talk about, as the gentle woman in the back seat of the car points out but relate happy stories from our lives, or the foibles of travel.
Painters relax. One woman talked about how she made swan sausage in New Zealand. I had seen a recipe for swan in an old English cookbook, I never knew anyone who ate it. As we drove around the Arc de Triumph, the couple in the back of our car recounted a tale about how a cab dropped them off in the center of the roundabout, at the Arch itself. Finally, a policemen on duty blew his whistle, pulled over a cab. The driver stopped with a look of dread on his face.
