Nothing is as good as the real thing

Been in the studio a lot recently , getting it upgraded to a slightly more functioning interesting artists hideaway. ( so now the electric doesnt work in half of it!) But it will get done and when its finshed it will look gorgeous, and most things will be as they should be.

But it means I have not been out or even up town for ages .I have been inside, painting decorating and on the internet. So when I went in the cafe today I was asked if I had been away as they hadn't seen me for a while. In the bank I heard someone referring to me as the signora inglesi. I waved to the man in the shop where I get gas, and who' s wife sold me the lovely bedcover on my wall. The man from the commune who is always really helpful, said, hello, and I have come back feeling all warm and cosy. I read somewhere that real life contact actually creates something in you that improves your health, and it needs to be face to face. Maybe...

Then earlier I was outside taking photos of my street and the view (again) and I realised that I can not take a photo that shows what I see. And I can take decent photos ,but it does not compare with actually being there and feeling as well as seeing it.

Tonight I am planning to go to a yoga class in Bernalda and I am looking forward to spending time with people. And I hope to get a little less creaky as well. I have tried to use a dvd on my own but I always give up.

Then last , but importantly, I got dressed up to go out and threw the old baggy clothes that I wear in the studio , cause I get painty and no one sees me anyways, in the wardrobe ( both doors open now, another thing that is fixed) and shot off on my scooter feeling at least ten years younger and looking about 2 kilos lighter without my normal 6 layers.

So hurray for real life, cause I need it to write"My life as a story".

why buying a bedcover I didnt really need was a good idea

huh, I expect you are thinking if you read this ,just what kind of excuse is she going to come up with for spending money on an enormous brightly coloured velvet traditional bedcover when money is a bit tight to put it mildly.

ahem, would I felt sorry for it work, it was just there beside the wardrobe( that I did need) unwanted and unloved ( it wouldnt be for sale if it was loved would it now!) somebody s treasured cover that was just pining away in a little old damp house. It was a charitable action on my part to take it away and give it a new home.

I should say that when it got delivered along with the wardrobe I did wonder what I was going to do with it. It s big. Its bright. And it smelled pretty damp!

This last ten days I have been living in the studio and doing it up with more and less successful paint effects, quite a lot of fakery and more gloss paint than I really like. Also moved lots of furniture , put doors back on when they fell off and managed to carry a whole armchair out one door and in the other without doing my back in.

So in the midst of this I was rather guiltily wondering what the heck I would do with this bedcover. I tried it as a tablecloth, oh no not good at all, I thought of using it as a bedcover, perhaps not ( I was told it was about 80 years old and am just a bit squeamish.) finally I decided to try and hang it on the wall. I have a cute little wooden ladder which is incredibly useful for all sorts of things, so I carefully stood it up on the bed and even more carefully climbed up it with a hammer, tacks and one end of the cover. It was even bigger than I thought and quite heavy but being intrepid, guilty , stubborn and quite good with a hammer I mangaged to get it hung up relatively straight.

Wow!

It completely changed the look of the room. It inadvertently matched the armchairs( wasnt that lucky) and the rug, but more than that it changed the atmosphere in the room from white and a little cold to warm , rich and interesting and gave me the theme for my whole studio. That is a sort of bohemian artist's fascinating 350 year old village house, studio apartment.

obviously my er psyche knew what it was doing when it let my mouth say "Va bene, prendo questo coperta."

pooper scooter

Just couldnt resist this. Maybe they are common all over the world but I have never seen one in action before.

This was in Taranto yesterday at the antiques market.

today in Pisticci

Am just back from Perth, probably prettiest town in Scotland, to my adopted home town ,Pisticci,the most beautiful town in the world according to some of its inhabitants.

This morning I went for a walk with my camera just to record how it is here today. It was warm , about 20 degrees and as usual I had far too many clothes on so was obliged to walk very slowly up the hill to save turning into a woolly beetroot. I have my image to think of!

It is a treat to walk slowly and take my time to see everything and say buon giorno to most people I meet. There are people sitting at their doors and I greeted one gentleman sitting reading the newspaper on the doorstep.

I always stop when I reach the railings and turn to look at dirupo. I can just see my studio underneath the church at the far corner.

Then I reach the fruit market at the end of the main street. There are people about and always cars. I take some photos as I love the colours of the fruit and veg and there is a lovely old stone chapel in the background.

After having a coffee in a bar where one of my paintings is hanging.( I am so impressed with myself when I see one of my paintings on display.) I take some more photos of people in the piazza and am heading off down the corsa when someone stops me and asks me for a business card. ( I am very impressed with that too.) Then the local photographer says buon giorno and I compliment him on the old photos of Pisticci in his window and he says he hopes they sell.(at least I think that s what he said.) and I carry on down the street stopping to take photos.

On the way down the hill someone shouts ,Signora. Its an elderly gentleman I have seen at the market. He greets me, gives me a sweetie and then walks off. Makes me smile all the way down the hill.

I take another route through dirupo so that I can take a photo of a pretty street and then arrive back at my studio where my flowers are alive.( alive is good!)

so now I am writing this. The door is open, net curtain flapping in the breeze and I am feeling very, very fortunate indeed.