With the dankest December in many years I decided to plant my easel inside. I came across a canvas that I had started this summer and was surprised that it seemed much better than when I had put it aside. Perhaps because there was more light in it than the whole Paris sky.
I worked on the oeuvre gently yesterday and first thing this morning trying to resolve the composition. It reminded me of a water color I had made in the eighties which I had entitled "La Gare Saint Lazare" and had sold it to a couple in New York.
I have painted that rail station from Le Pont Europe several times. So has someone called Monet I learned later.
I adore seeing words on paintings (I like words period) so decided to paint "St Lazare" on the work. So pleased, I signed it.
Then told Nina, who had sneaked up on my bed, it was time for a walk.
I was feeling quite good. I bundled up and headed for Le Café de Thêatre to see Marie and have a cafè. She was in the middle of a delivery and in a bad mood. I waited patiently for the counter newspaper, Le Parisian, to be free, but was disappointed to learn that there was a big scare of rat infestation tailed with a disease at the famous Gare Saint Lazare.
The Chinese fortune teller came to mind, who told me I was going to have badruck this year.
I asked him what was badruck.
He said, "You know, Good ruck. Bad ruck."
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