What’s happening in Paris this morning. There’s an emergency. It’s a puddle. Submarines may lurk below the apparent calm. Call the navy! This is to all those knuckleheads who are calling false alerts.
This is one of the Parisian cityscapes I’m currently working on.
I use oil paint. After drawing the cartoon, I block in colors using a very liquid mix of pigments that I mix on the palette and my own secret medium. The medium is ninety percent odorless thinner. After blocking in the colors I cover the canvas with a wash, also very liquid. These three steps take three days. Each layer has to dry before the next can be applied. Continue reading
How is Paris today for any old Joe?
I’m not a politician, not a reporter nor am I the military. I don’t know anyone who was killed. I do know military who were the first guys in the door at the Bataclan. They said their vehicle looks like a strainer— bullet holes.
Friends were out to dinner over there, they had to walk home all the way to the 15th. One ended up barefoot, but they’re alive.
The flag is half mast on the Pantheon.
This morning I walked past MacDonalds on the corner of rue Soufflot. Two of the three entrances are blocked. A sign said to use the main entrance. One way in, one way out. Security.
Paris is 2000 year old. Wars come and go.
Last night I went to a party.What do you do, stay home and watch the news? A friend who grew up in South Africa, during the worst of apartheid, told me this new war is a modern Moorish invasion. Another war in world history.
We lit candles, we cried. Candles burned in windows everywhere in Paris last night.
After we cried we drank champagne ate escargot and danced.
This morning joggers couldn’t run inside Luxembourg gardens. They ran around it.
Four military trucks loaded with soldiers drove by.
Rue Mouffetard, far from the Bataclan, is packed. It feels like any old Sunday.
Paris is quiet this morning. The traffic sparse. Outside, Paris is quiet.
Inside phones ring, radios blast. Tweets and messages fly..
They say it’s not finished. They say to stay home.
Here is a rainbow, Bless those who lost their lives. Bless their families.
I’m sculpting again. I majored in sculpture but in the last thirty years I have tried, in vain, to make something in 3D.
After painting the resin tiger a gallery asked me to paint more sculptures. I searched the internet for all kinds of different forms in resin and found all kinds of animals. Nothing inspired me. I didn’t want to do bulldogs or penguins or crocodiles. Every artist has their token bulldog, either painted or covered in comics or dollar bills.
One night I had a dream, yes it sounds cliché but artists do get inspired by silly dreams. It had been an intense period and the dream was probably a result of the lock to our door being vandalized. A common thing in Paris, the locksmith scam. Do not call an emergency locksmith. I didn’t. Don’t. They will charge you double.
Anyhow, I had this dream and knew what form I wanted to paint on. Here is the prototype for the first form. It’s in plastecine, or plastellina. I won’t tell you what it is, you’ll just have to wait and see when it’s finished.