Precious hours. Filled with gratitude. Surrounded by beauty.
"A poet is a nightingale who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds; his auditors are as men entranced by the melody of an unseen musician, who feel that they are moved and softened, yet know not whence or why."
Yes. I have heard the nightingale singing at Can Serrat.
We are joined at Can Serrat by the latest resident, a painter from Denmark named Grethe Mariann Maurseth. Yesterday Grethe, Melissa and I went by bus into Barcelona and had a day relaxing in the city.
Here is Melissa as we wait for their beer and my Limoncello.
And in the foyer of the Picasso Museum.
Back at the residence Felix goes about his business.
Felix and Luna really do seem to be in love. They hang together quite a lot. Felix arrived at the residence first and after a short time brought his "wife". They are a beloved family here.
One morning I let myself into an empty room and shot atmospheric photos. I love the old paint on the plaster walls and the diaphanous curtains on all the windows. The light is amazing.
Five I think is the most beautiful number. I love its shape and variations in typeface design.
I continue to scribble and play.
I don't need a subject. Just the movement of my body across a broad canvas.
I took this shot after I'd mistaken a bottle of poisonous medium for my water bottle. I had the bottle in my mouth before something warned me that something wasn't right. I was so deep in the process of painting. This is probably why you shouldn't eat or drink in the studio. All is well though, I didn't actually drink any.
The blue painting evolves.
One more session should do it.
Can you see the dressmaker's form in the middle of the studio? I wrapped Melissa in duct tape to make a mannequin for her textile creation. She has such a tiny waist. I made one of my body two years ago and it was shaped like a penguin.
Tonight musicians are coming and we're having adult beverages and a big big party with the people who'll come from El Bruc and nearby towns. Can Serrat will rock!
Later, 'gator. xo