My paper is clipped on with a hair clip. If it blows away in the wind I shall not climb down to fetch it. We have been staying near Castel- naud la Chapelle for some days now, my very fine students and I .
Here we are at amazing Rocamadour, Briali has taken this with her tricky long distance wand. I hope Utama is not too far away. It doesn’t do to look down at this point . Peter and Ria have been cooking three meals a day for us and we are cross eyed with splendid eating.
We can’t seem to remember what day it is, so perfect is this time together. ( And there is more……) But now back to Paris. Beautiful Paris. Again my attic room with the roof top views I have come to love….
And at this time, an immense exhibition of Pierre Bonnard. An immensely wonderful exhibition. I love these paintings, I spend the rest of the day almost in his world..He shows us the most Crabbit Cats ( a Sue in Scotland word) look how spitty this one is..
It is Just how it is , with Grandmothers, the dearest of quiet times. Bonnard paints these treasures and more. I couldn’t photograph the the beady eyed black dog he painted, Le Chein just about to get a whole cherry pie. There are old films of Bonnard showing, of him walking with friends, swimming and in a small boat. His life going on forever in his pictures.
I can’t resist the catalogue, I weigh each one in my hands, bother, the best is the heaviest. And in French, good for my brain. I go out along the Seine, looking for Sennelier and Charvin art supply shops. A Zebra vase in an elegant gallery window..
But would they match my Sarah Chapeau Rouge? That is the big question. I think of the photographs of Monet in one of these smocks. With his FC beard and for ever cigarette . More water colours are glistening on the table. Back through the little crowded summer streets, past some jolie gateaux..