When I had an atelier in Ivry-sur-Seine, back in 2007, there was artist named George who had an atelier next to mine in the . He was quite a peice of work, if you know what I mean. Talk about OCDC. The setting was an artists dream la Fabrique des Artistes. It was a bit bohemian for my taste with holes in the walls that let in the winter fog, but it had its good points like instead of sweeping all you had to do was whitewash the floor once a month. It wasn’t cheap either.
Anyway about George, that’s not his real name. He had ideas about things that were down right weird. One day we were talking about the white sky of Paris. The uncanny color it is and he told me that he added quinachridone and phtalo green to zinc white to get this unique sky color. I was like WTF, who would ever make such an awful mix. Then I rushed to try it and to my amazement it worked.
I wrote a novel called White Sky of Paris. It’s sitting on my shelf right in front of my eyes. No one else has ever seen it. George is part of the story.
This is water color and ink on Arches. I like how the ink bleeds into the color. It wasn’t a mistake.
Monceau Fleurs are all over Paris, in some prime spots. Check out their website Monceau Fleurs Paris. This one is near gare du l’Est. I drew it in the rain last year when I was waiting for my kid during her dance lesson.
The Crèpeman is a super hero saving starving school children whose stomachs rumble at 4PM when the school bell rings. The crèpeman is wonder man, the school kids save him with thei growling guts because the tourists didn’t come to Mouffetard in 2020.
Riding the metro in Paris is like lying down under an out of tune gong during the tsunami. The Metro nada is a screeching metallic grating dissonance that leaves you dishevelled. Everyone comes out like they’ve been through a car wash. No wonder everyone wears head phones.