Washing line in Venice
Yesterday with friends I was joking about a song with the lyrics " Monday is washing day". Over the years and all over the world women hang washing out to dry in so many ways. On lines stretching from palm tree to palm tree ob sandy beaches, in gardens large and small, from poles outside windows of high appartments.My Grandmother always thought of Monday as the day when she would do a weekly wash. All the bedding would be changed and hung out to dry in neat rows. It always seemed at that time that washing on any other day was completely unthinkable!
Monday is a washing day to me but not in the same sense as in my Grandmothers home. It is a day of experimenting with exciting watercolour washes.To me this day is the start of a whole new week full of fresh, blank pieces of white paper all waiting to be transformed via brushstrokes carrying vibrant colour. I am not quite sure where I am headed at the moment this week because I have a number of landscapes in my head waiting to be caught on paper, a whole new series of sheep paintings and on top of these ideas figures are appealing to me in French market scenes. I need forty eight hour days to capture all there is in my imagination in watercolour.
But for now washing day is simply playing with colour and seeing what happens. Only then will I have an inkling of where this week is leading. And I know its going to be one of my best weeks yet!