Twilight Venice, 1908, Claude Monet

Quote of the Week

“These thoughts belong to Venice at dawn, seen from the deck of the ship which is to carry me down through the islands to Cyprus; a Venice wobbling in a thousand fresh-water reflections cool as a jelly. It was as if some great master, stricken by dementia, had burst his whole color-box against the sky to deafen the inner eye of the world. Cloud and water mixed into each other, dripping with colors, merging, overlapping, liquefying, with steeples and balconies and roofs floating in space, like the fragments of some stained-glass window seen through a dozen veils of rice paper. Fragments of history touched with the colors of wine, tar, ochre, blood, fire-opal and ripening grain. The whole at the same time being rinsed softly back at the edges into a dawn sky as softly as circumspectly blue as a pigeon’s egg.”

Excerpt From: Lawrence Durrell. “Bitter Lemons of Cyprus: Life on a Mediterranean Island.”

I found this exquisite quote on another favorite blog, The Depth of Now, by the lovely Martina Korkmaz. Immediately I was seized with the urge to paint his words, to capture in paint all the shimmering color and effusive joy.

Instead I found this painting of Venice by Monet that captures some, but not all of what I would paint.

More and more I find myself wanting to paint the things I read that move me, like the poem Love After Love that I blogged about earlier this week. Paint a woman greeting herself in a garden on an island home.

I suppose it’s an urge to put into tangible form what I feel swirling around me when I read, what I see splashing against the walls of my mind. Something that will remain long after the words fall silent.