Maybe a musical version
How 'bout you? What movie? What part?
(et qua te ducit via dirige gressum, said Venus)
Tuesday's rain had cooled the air, and the mid-morning sky was brilliant. All nine parking lots would be filled by noon. I looked over the heads of the record-breaking crowd and inhaled smoke from the kettle corn booth as I led her onto the stage and up to the microphone. She had been a last minute addition. Our next performers were stuck in traffic. When I told her and her manager that we had about 15 minutes to kill, she waved her CD with a wink and offered to sing. Before I finished introducing her, the cheers and applause surged up and over us. Later, she let me try on the crown that she will wear to the pageant, and she said I had excellent posture.
This is a detail from a much larger plein air painting of mine that is mostly sky and dune. I dragged my stuff over the breakwater that day and set up among the horseflies, poison ivy and naturists. The light changed. I never returned to finish it. Summer ended, and we sold our house on Pearl Street. Now, on the first chilled mornings of this new/old season, when I walk by this picture with a mug of coffee in hand, it dutifully brings me back there, and softens the fact that for the first time in many years, a summer has gone by and I was not in Provincetown even once.
We have two paintings by Andre Demers. They are unlike anything else on our walls. This one is about 2'X3'. His work is very "outsider" and hypnotic. It has been a great pleasure to watch his obsession with repeating shapes and themes and decorative elements evolve over the past several years - and to watch his mastery of paint grow.
He has just put up a site that includes some recent paintings.
In addition to the fact that we like living with his paintings, I am guessing that now is the time to collect him, while he is still relatively obscure and affordable.
We're calling it Sprite Hill, and I think C and I have the right to name it because we first staked it out. We brought Joe and a few friends there, and Joe invited others. It has been called Gay Hill and Blogger Hill, but the unifying element is the portage of wine in emptied green Sprite bottles so as not to offend Park policy.