SOLD 
S"The Owl and the Pussycat", 8x8, original oil on museum -quality gessoboard
Don't ask me what possessed me to paint this today. Other than the fact that I had runcible spoons on my brain, I have been thinking that I have been way too serious about my paintings recently and needed a little break from the world of serious.
So today I decided to delve into a place of whimsy, fantasy and memories of childhood nursery rhymes in order to create a new painting.
"The Owl and The Pussycat" was an all time favorite nursery rhyme of mine growing up, and I must say that I was duly appalled when I found out on a recent walk with my hubby that he had never heard of it. I was reciting the poem to him as we walked and he thought it was just plain funny.
"Funny?" I said. "I beg your pardon! I think it's a first rate love song!" I shrieked.
"Beg your pardon", he said quite humbled by my seriousness.
Although I always thought it was a bit suggestive for a kid's nursery rhyme, I'll always love it anyway.
Now wouldn't you just love to dine on mince and slices of quince and eat from a runcible spoon? I'd be happy just to dance by the light of the moon! (Not to mention those bong trees!)
If you are unfamiliar with this delightful little piece of prose,
by Edward Lear, here goes:
The owl and the pussycat went to sea
In a
beautiful peagreen
boat
They took some honey and plenty of
money
Wrapped up in a five-pound note.
The owl looked up to the stars above
And
sang to a small guitar,
"O, lovely pussy, o pussy my
love,
What a beautiful pussy you are, you are
What a beautiful pussy you are!"
Pussy said to the owl, "You elegant fowl,
How charmingly sweet you sing.
O, let us be married, too long we have tarried,
But what shall we do for a ring?"
They sailed away for a year and a day
To the land where the Bongtree grows.
And there in a wood a Piggywig stood
With a ring at the end of his nose,
His nose, his nose,
With a ring at the end of his nose.
"Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling
Your ring?" Said the Piggy, "I will."
So they took it away and were married next day
By the turkey who lives on
the hill.
They dined on mince and slices of quince
Which they ate with a runcible spoon;
And hand in hand on
the edge of the sand
They danced by the
light of the moon,
The moon, the moon,
They danced by the light of the moon.
Postscript: a friend sent me
this video today of a barn owl that looks a lot like my guy above. This video is just amazing- you've got to see this friendship between an owl and a pussycat!
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La Bicyclette waits patiently for the return of its owner who will meander down the cobblestone paths any minute now, smiling at a distant memory and emerging with his face slightly flushed after polishing off a bottle of old red straight from the vineyard of Max Skinner, and which he imbibed alfresco-style at the lovely Cafe de France in the heart of the village.
Lacoste is truly ancient, crumbling, mysterious and exotic all at once. Forget the Marquis de Sade and his crumbling castle; the view from the Cafe de France of the Luberon valley and the neighboring village of Bonnieux is enough to make your heart do somersaults, as is most of the scenery in the area.
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