The Art & Designs of Ginette Callaway: the delft school of painting

Memories of Provence

I'd be leisurely walking back to my gite, taking my time, sitting under trees and chewing on small blades of grass while looking up in to the sky. After a while I put my watercolor pad under my arm, smiling from ear to ear, hurrying just a bit, to get home just before dark. A light gust of wind separates me from my straw hat, and blows it just across the row of lavender behind me. I Leave it without worry, knowing it will still be there tomorrow, I'll fetch it then when I come back. Back in my gite, I'd eat something simple, break little pieces off freshly baked baguette, I love that crunchy noise it makes, remembering my grandmother, who like me, loved plain bread and a glass of wine. Later I'd fall in to bed, thinking about how lucky I am, to be in this heavenly place. ~~~~~ The next day I do it all over, walking on air, free in the countryside among the wild lavender and olive trees.

Friday, November 28, 2008

Vermeer - Charlie Rose Talk to the Director & The Curator of The Metropolitan Museum

Safe Wild Horses