Saturday, April 25, 2009


While painting Théâtre de l'Atelier, a passer-by stopped and stood behind me for an unusually long time. What was really unusual was that he didn't ask me for directions.
I finally turned and saw a middle-aged medium height tax inspector type eyeing my painting with some scrutiny. He was carrying a clip board, with notes already jotted down.
I wondered what was on his mind.
"Très Poetique", he finally sighed.
I was surprized.
"Oui, mais..." I winced.
"Mais, quoi?"
He seemed concerned.
"I have a problem." I confessed.  "I started the painting just as the leaves were sprouting tiny lime-green dots. Thousands of them. It was great.  Within the next couple of days the leaves opened. The shadows on the cobble stone looked like dancing butterflies."
"Then it rained for three days and was cloudy for three more. The leaves kept growing. It was terrible. Now they are a darker green and I can't see the theater. I would love to have those few days back." 

"They're right there." he said looking at my canvas and left making a small notation on his clipboard. 

1 comment:

  1. tout simplement : j'adore.

    et oui, les papillons dansants sont là :o)

    merci !!



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