days of wine and roses

One of the things I love about working in new (old) parts of the world where artists have lived and worked for hundreds of years is the realization that art doesn't lie - even when it tries to. Many great paintings exhibit what I once attributed to artistic license - until I witness the subject matter in the flesh. Over the years I have come to the conclusion that the truth is stranger than fiction... most all of the time.

These images record my last week in SW France. One was taken in pouring rain while exploring a small cemetary in Bartique. The stone structure is noted to be the remains of a Roman pont on the trail to St. Jacques. It follows a four kilometer stretch between Auvillar and Bartique. I was a dripping pilgrim on the walk between the two villages and don't know if I would have finished the journey if it hadn't been for the knowledge that the fantastic cafe Auberg's was at the end of the trail. After three espressos (cafe normal in French terms) I didin't mind one way or the other if the rain stopped or not. The sunflower fields and I leaned into the rain in unison and I was glad to be on the trail in August rather than October.

The image of children were blowing bubbles was taken off the viewpoint in Auvillar during the Schneider wedding reception. It was an idyllic afternoon and a splendid time and place for a ceremony. I felt lucky to be witness to the festivities which preceded and overlapped our vernissage and reading that marked the end of the August artist residency at the Moulin a Nef.

The "Klimt" forests that are planted here and there throughout the Pyrenees surrounded us. These trees are planted and harvested and during the interim they've inspired a great deal of painting. It's all very lush and beautiful... with air that smells like lavendar that is also filled with big billowing clouds. They waft across the sky and lead one's eye to their point of origin: the nuclear power plant on the horizon . oohh la la.....