Giverny

Tuesday, August 14

Today I rode up a hill with a borrowed mountain bike to the edge of a farm field.  I could see little houses and valleys below.  On my way I met two horses, one black, one white. Irritated by flies in their eyes they kept nodding their heads at me.  I patted their warm brows.  A young French girl, who must have stepped out of a painting, walked over to me calling out the horses' names.  She was rosy cheeked and wore a dress the color of the sky.  I spoke to her in my broken French and she patiently waited to understand.  When I said "Je suis Américain," she smiled.  She lives in a house down the way.  I wished I could paint her.  I said "À tout à l'heure" and hopped back on my bike.

An attempt at a landscape was made farther on up the hill.  A sweaty brow and spilt water decided when it was done. I had fussed with it too much and the lights were muddied.  But with renewed excitement for watercolor and landscape, I decided I would try again the next day for I'm out of practice in plein air and I knew that's how the day's painting would go.