After a week in Paris we took the speed train down to the Mediterranean coast for the heart purpose of the trip. The Island of Porquerolle was a favorite childhood spot of my grandmother, and thats where we decided to bring her ashes. It was a powerful experience which I will keep to myself. Then My mom and I returned to mainland and rented a little car at the local airport. Map in hand we set out on what would turn out to be an art tour of cities seeped in so much history. Our first stop was Arles, a tiny Roman city of faded stone building with worn pastel shutters and narrow streets that were barely big enough for our mini rental car to squeeze through. This is where Van Gogh and Gauguin chilled at a hundred or so years back. There are old amphitheatres, thermal baths, churches with gothic facades, and old fountains. I was so psyched to walk these streets at night, passing the night cafe so famously captured by Vincent, and wandering into some little cafe where a group of musicians were kicking out some ethnic acoustic folk jams. The next day I squeezed in some time to paint some city scape studies, and go to my new favorite museum, The Musée Réattu, which is some former 16th century artists palace that now has all these artists come and do site specific pieces that were quite excellent. I just liked to see contemporary art living on these ancient walls as opposed to the clean white ones we so often see in museums and galleries.
Porquerolle
mom
one of Musée Réattu's courtyards
medievalal pizza delivery
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