“Art will never be able to exist without nature.” Pierre Bonnard Art and form are linked with function and nature, with feeling and seeing, with emotion and the relationship between the observed and men and women’s particular unique situations and particular environmental circumstances; and their reaction to and interaction with it. “Art is about building […]
I started scuba diving in 1987, it was difficult I’m claustrophobic taking extra classes to handle the thought of breathing underwater. I was fortunate to log over a hundred dives in ten years.
A panic attack while shore diving almost drowning two people, this was the start of my Maui vacation. This is not my idea of fun any time, it was scary. I kept taking off my face mask, not breathing thru the regulator and pushing my dive buddy under water. Once on land, I would not take off the wet suit, kept laying on the ground and would not get in the car. That was my last dive, devastating but if I can’t dive again there are so many great memories and photos.
The early evening was much better, walking thru the Gallery District, sampling the wine, talking to the artist. It was so relaxing as the sun fell. I started talking to a gallery owner about his most recent works of art. I followed him inside and saw THE painting was perfect, I could see eating at the table, drinking wine smelling the beautiful flowers. This was my first original painting and I love it as much today. Interestingly he is the nephew of Gene Stallings American Football player and coach.
“Two Plums” c1997 G1/399
It is strange that most of Camille Pissarro’s artwork I don’t care for. Landscapes, people working in fields, there all very nice but don’t have as much interest as Boulivorde Martmontre Avenue at Night, 1897.
This piece draws me into all the different brush strokes, nothing clearly defined yet perfectly understand. I can feel the excitement of people bustling around on a brisk night. His use of reflections is the icing on the cake.
Thank you for coming by to see on my favorite Impressionist/Post Impressionist artist Camille Pissarro.
(July 10, 1830 – November 13, 1903)
Camille Pissarro (July 10, 1830 – November 13, 1903) was a French Impressionist painter. His importance resides not only in his visual contributions to Impressionism and Post-Impressionism, but also in his patriarchal standing among his colleagues, particularly Paul Cezanne and Paul Gauguin.
Jacob-Abraham-Camille Pissarro was born in Charlotte Amalie, St. Thomas, to Abraham Gabriel Pissarro, a Portuguese Sephardic Jew, and Rachel Manzana-Pomie, from the Dominican Republic. Pissarro lived in St. Thomas until age 12, when he went to a boarding school in Paris. He returned to St. Thomas where he drew in his free time. Pissarro was attracted to political anarchy, an attraction that may have originated during his years in St. Thomas.
To start the day with humor, I searched the WP feee photo library, here is Van Go.
It’s hard to pin down my top five favorite pieces of art, no doubt you feel the same. I do have two close to my heart and I’ll share one with you today. M
Edourardo Manet painted one of my favorites, His last work was called A Bar at the Folies-Bergère, which was displayed at the Salon, in 1882. She pulls me into the painting. The Barmaid is beautiful but the painting doesn’t give me the feeling of her posing.
Prior to that year, he received a special award from the French Government, which was the Légion d’honneur. It was one of the highest form of recognition that he has received throughout his life.
His last work was called A Bar at the Folies-Bergère, which was displayed at the Salon, in 1882. Prior to that year, he received a special award from the French Government, which was the Légion d’honneur. It was one of the highest form of recognition that he has received throughout his life.
The Folies-Bergère was one of the most elaborate variety-show venues in Paris, showcasing entertainment ranging from ballets to circus acts. Another attraction was the barmaids, who were assumed by many contemporary observers to be available as clandestine prostitutes. By depicting one of these women and her male customer on an imposing scale, Manet brazenly introduced a morally suspect, contemporary subject into the realm of high art. By treating the topic with deadpan seriousness and painterly brilliance, Manet staked his claim to be remembered as the heroic “painter of modern life” envisaged by critics like Charles Baudelaire.
Everything is mere appearance, the pleasures of a passing hour, a midsummer night’s dream. Only painting, the reflection of a reflection – but the reflection, too, of eternity – can record some of the glitter of this mirage.” – Édouard Manet
As a child the thought of Russian children hating me and me hating them made no sense, we didn’t know each other. Around six years old I set a goal to see the world, little did I know how much money it took and the politics involved.
My girlfriends parents subscribed to National Geographic, this must have planted the seed to travel. Her parents kept years worth which kept me quite busy. I live in Texas, born is Big City Dallas however had not left the county.
I saw animals unknown to me, people who lived very different. A women who didn’t wear bra, strange. I was a tomboy, never wore my shirt but the only thing on my chest were nibs. This was a very exciting time for me, learning about lands far way.
Move forward to 2001, exactly 9/11/2001. I’m heading to door to catch airport shuttle, my Gamps called hysterical something about a plane. Ok, I’ll call from airport. Other passengers board the bus, more of the story comes clear. This was no Cessna Gramps was talking about. Somebody from the back asked “Who would do this to us?” Before I could help it Bin Ladin came out of mouth. What the hell did I know?
The airports were closed for ten days as we watch WWIII unfold. My plane left for Russia ten days later, numb feelings, suspicion towards everyone, what am I doing on a plane????? Plenty of Xanax were taken during that trip.
I traveled to Russia alone, didn’t speak the language, didn’t know anyone and would not pay for a guide, learning is half the fun. This trip taught me more about human nature over ethnic background. Most women don’t travel alone in Russia, it was easy to see I was American. People from all over the world were coming up crying saying how sorry they were, hugging me. It was a unique moment frozen in time.
Bringing home a piece of art is a must for me, cost is not the point. The feeling I get talking to artist about their work, information beyond art. Near The Church of Spilled Blood is where the street artist and gypsy’s gather. I saw this piece of art and had to check it out. Something drew me in, a beauty in her eyes. It’s a small piece about the size of a magazine.
ART IS ART!