The sweet shadow of a girl
A happy garden
Kolomon Moser’s painting, the marigolds, stroke me deeply. He had painted joy.
This week-end, I wanted to pay him a smiling tribute.
An old drawing pad with a few streaks of paint, japanese paper, 4 colors. And to go further in the game, I immersed in the background the silhouette of the very pretty girl of café Procope
Des soucis joyeux
L’ombre claire d’une jolie fille
Un jardin heureux
J’ai été frappée par ce tableau, les soucis de Kolomon Moser. La joie peinte.
Ce week-end, j’ai voulu lui rendre un hommage souriant.
Un vieux carton à dessein avec quelques traces de peinture, du papier japonais, 4 couleurs. Et pour aller plus join dans le jeu, j’ai noyé dans le fond la solhouette de la très jolie fille du café Procope.
A new version of the very pretty girl of café Procope inspired by a poem of Verlaine
Your soul is like a landscape fantasy,
Where masks and Bergamasks, in charming wise,
Strum lutes and dance, just a bit sad to be
Hidden beneath their fanciful disguise.
Singing in minor mode of life’s largesse
And all-victorious love, they yet seem quite
Reluctant to believe their happiness,
And their song mingles with the pale moonlight,
The calm, pale moonlight, whose sad beauty, beaming,
Sets the birds softly dreaming in the trees,
And makes the marbled fountains, gushing, streaming—
Slender jet-fountains—sob their ecstasies.
TRANSLATED BY NORMAN R. SHAPIRO
Clair de lune
Votre âme est un paysage choisi
Que vont charmant masques et bergamasques
Jouant du luth et dansant et quasi
Tristes sous leurs déguisements fantasques.
Tout en chantant sur le mode mineur
L’amour vainqueur et la vie opportune,
Ils n’ont pas l’air de croire à leur bonheur
Et leur chanson se mêle au clair de lune,
Au calme clair de lune triste et beau,
Qui fait rêver les oiseaux dans les arbres
Et sangloter d’extase les jets d’eau,
Les grands jets d’eau sveltes parmi les marbres.
Yesterday, my mood was grey. So I decided to finish this painting inspired by the « énervés de Jumièges », the superb shore of Geneva’s lake and Mary Shelley who lived there for a while and wrote Frankenstein.
Tout fond dans le gris
Ciel, nuages, eaux du lac, printemps
Mon humeur aussi
Hier, mon humeur était grise. Alors, j’ai décidé de finir cette toile inspirée des énervés de Jumièges, de la superbe rive du lac Léman et de Mary Shelley qui vécut là quelque temps et y écrivit Frankenstein.
I painted a series of « nymphea noir » inspired by the novel of Michel Bussi. But that book drove me also to paint a series of kisses. This is the first one. The kiss born out of a flower.
J’ai peint une série de « nymphea noir » inspiré du roman de Michel Bussi. Mais ce livre m’a aussi poussée à peindre une série de baisers. Le premier « un baiser né d’une fleur.
Mixed media 30 cmx30cm – Octobre 2014
Shadow had done three years in prison and nobody knew it. Shadow was a painter. Shadow was famous. Shadow was beautiful. Shadow was nice. Shadow had a lover. Shadow had friends. Shadow had everything.
Shadow had done three years in prison in an absolute silence. Nobody had heard of it. The suffering was so violent that she could find no words to describe it. The grip of anguish was so tight that it strangled her tears.
Shadow had done three years in prison and now she had lost all hope of getting out. Only death could free her.
But before finding a way to die, she had to dress herself for the party, put on some make-up and wait for her lover to come and take her to their friend’s house.
Shadow was in the car. The car was speeding on the highway. Shadow was chatting with her lover. Their conversation was light and lively. Shadow was a master in the art of hiding the black shadows darkening her soul.
Shadow’s lover looked at her. She was so beautiful, so gifted, so nice. He was a simple mortal in love with a deity. Shadow would wake up one day and realize. The worm and the star. Their story would end there.
Suddenly the car skidded. Oil had been spilt on the asphalt. The car hurt violently the crash barrier. A burst of sparks. The car glided out of control, skipped the other vehicles by miracle. The car now slowing down on the hard shoulder and coming to a stop. The astonishing quietness falling on them.
Shadow turned to her lover and, with a smile that made her look like Mona Lisa, Shadow said :
Written in sept 2011, prompt by Nina Pelletier was the seven first words. The story is inspired by an anecdote lived by a friend, how he cured a girl from her dramatic heartache in an instant.