Every summer for the last eleven years I've returned to the same tiny hamlet in the Luberon Mountains to teach and paint. The look of the patterned landscape, feel of a warm old stone wall, smell of lavender and wild thyme, taste of a cherry stolen in the orchard: Provence is a feast for the senses. Painting this memory gave me a little vacation from a freezing January day here in New England.
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Memory: Provence Farmhouse
Every summer for the last eleven years I've returned to the same tiny hamlet in the Luberon Mountains to teach and paint. The look of the patterned landscape, feel of a warm old stone wall, smell of lavender and wild thyme, taste of a cherry stolen in the orchard: Provence is a feast for the senses. Painting this memory gave me a little vacation from a freezing January day here in New England.
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