Bright, fresh leaves of the acacia tree in front of my studio window move in a light breeze. Weeks and weeks of sunshine and that “terrace weather” (weather for sitting out on the terraces of Parisian cafés) have let the plants rejoice, and they are doing so very publicly. Rain will be needed soon, like after a busy period - rest IS needed - but for now, let’s concentrate on the present moment: the warmth of the sunshine and the dancing of the baby acacia leaves.
Parisian parks are open until late now - the days are already stretchy and looong, and the sun sets just after nine o’clock at night (and comes out at 6:30). Most of April, I was out and about - running up and down Paris - but yesterday I had a big day of admin work, so I went for a walk in the Bois after it, with a notebook and the first pen - a pink Staedtler marker - I could find in my pencil case. The notebook fit perfectly into the pocket of my warmer weather jacket, and I went for my usual local walk.
As I entered the Bois, the atmosphere was different from the usual one - it was just before 7 o’clock, and the sun was far from setting. Kids and dogs were running around on the grass, and people were dancing. There was a colorful Tibetan festival in the wood, and the dance felt well rehearsed but still joyful. What attracted my attention, though, were the birds. They were more aggressive and busy than usual. Usually, you hear one singing over here, then a couple of wobbly crows having an intense conversation about something, and parrots meaningfully crossing the sky, choosing the right tree. But yesterday, it felt like night was crawling in and every bird was onto something. There was no play - it felt like an organized SWAT team, with every step known and prepared.
I understood what was happening when I went to Peacock Island - the birds were preparing for their bedtime, that’s why it felt so different! They were organizing their homes and their families. Here, Canadian geese were already lying in the grass, occasionally fighting - it felt like a couple’s argument: one wanted to go out (and swim in the lake), while the other wanted to sleep. Some of the peacocks were already asleep, while teenage peacock chicks roamed through the flower bushes, trying to pick the right one for that night’s bed, and some peacock mothers screamed loudly at them.
There was a human kid called Edo with his father, who entered the island at the same time I did. He was small and fast, running after unimpressed, relaxing peacocks. I made a circle around the island, did a couple of sketches, and at the exit saw Edo being chased off the island by the peacocks - enough was enough. Edo’s dad smiled at me as if to say: well, he learned his lesson.
The guard came, closed the island fence, and wished me a pleasant evening.
Here below are the things that made me happy this April - a month I partly spent in bed because of some stomach parasite; during which I ate a lot of local asparagus (parasite not connected to the asparagus) and hoped for the best.
You can browse my monthly lists here.
Here we go:
I continued with my daily sketching/painting experimentations, and I feel like my art practice expanded. I spent time trying to understand value (the amount of color on a surface) and how it interferes with color itself. This is hard - I will need a lot of practice. I often forget to truly look, and instead I assume; I draw and paint what I think I’m seeing, not what is actually there. Some life lesson here!
Roxy and I tried some excellent food with Chez Carrie last Friday.
Preparing for my next Parisian exhibition in just 3 weeks - here is the invite:
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Two custom-made maps for clients - it is always special to celebrate someone’s memories through a drawing. I can also see the improvement in my digital techniques thanks to my daily drawing exercises.
A cheese shop that sells foreign cheeses - we tried cheddar with coffee (from the USA) and a Swedish cheese that somehow tastes like chicken (because of the herbs on the rind).
A couple of very custom-made tours that I led. One client said: “It feels like you know us - lead us where you think we’ll be happy.” And so I did. Trust always feels good.
Memories of a Distant Mountain, a book by Nobel Prize winner Orhan Pamuk. Such a beautiful, well-designed book, full of his reflections, drawings, and paintings.
I watched this show earlier in the year and loved it, and then I watched another one from the same producers. It was... okay. Music is great.
I went to the American Library in Paris party in the garden of the Musée de Montmartre, and it was just so enchanting.
I painted with 25+ year-old watercolor paints (the full free video is here, if you’d like to watch it).
Visiting the Gutenberg Museum in Mainz - seeing some of the oldest books printed in Europe. Those Bibles were incredible, but my favorite part was the decoration of the paragraph letters: custom-made and hand-painted. A heaven for someone who loves bookbinding and art.
Drew a tiny bit more outdoors - this makes me nervous, so even ”a tiny but” is an improvement!
I found an antidote to tariffs - it seems I’ll have to do drop shipping for my USA clients for now. Emily and I are also giving you 10% off for Mother’s Day. Head to her Substack to get the code.
And that’s it. Tomorrow is May, and the TV has promised the acacia tree and moi some rain in the coming days. I’m excited about lily of the valley flowers - their scent always makes me happy. Small things!
Merci, merci, merci for being here.
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