I've been a little fascinated with nocturnes lately. They truly don't fit my morning schedule self, but after doing the moonrise through my window the other night (at the bottom of this blog post in case you missed it earlier), I got out to the Louvre at dusk to paint. Besides flagging energy level, there is also the technical difficulty of painting in the dark. It helps to know your way around your palette, but some of it ends up being guess work. I put the sky in later, using my out-the-window sketch as a guide, but I did the rest on site. I also did the quick little sketch below while I was out there. It was a fun evening.

More recent work that you might have seen but that fits in this category are my star filled self portrait, sitting here in the apartment I'm house sitting, and the museum study I did in the Orsay.

I've done several themed entries that some of my recent work didn't fit with. So here are some of the other things I've been doing that didn't match a blog post. Above is Notre Dame, of course. Below is a bookstore in Place Colette that I painted while listening to Rene and Stephen one afternoon.

Speaking of Rene:

Plus a page of our Tuesday night regulars.

Skies are truly calling to me this trip. I've been painting them myself but also looking at the way other people paint them. Of the five studies I did in the Orsay today, three featured skies. Above is Henry Tanner, 1905, Christ and his disciples on the road to Bethany. The combination of tree plus moon got me. I wish I'd been able to replicate his deep purple-y blue of the sky.

I spent most of my day with the surrealists today. I've loved Rodin since a show of his I saw as a teen, though it's never been the kind of art I do. For many years I was a pure landscapist. But I've been feeling drawn to having more narration in my work the last few years, and I love the mystery of Redon's paintings. The way he captures deeper truth by taking liberties with the surface truth. That's a bit of how I felt with the self portrait I did against the stars recently. Here Rodin is using clouds as a backdrop for two portraits, the way Vincent used stars.

I love the one of the boy best (I'm guessing his son by the name), but I was struck by the very realistic woman sitting in a demure armchair with carefully rendered embroidery juxtaposed with the fantastical sky. This feels a bit of what I wanted to do in those recent self portraits. Since I'm also doing so many cloud studies recently, I may have to try my own one of these as well.

I had already warmed up for the Orsay, unknowingly, by doing another cloud study over breakfast this morning. It's a skies sort of day.

I promise I'm painting other things too, but this is a quick blog subject for today as I'm on my way out to visit the studio of a linocut artist here whose work I've admired in our Facebook linocut group for several years.

I have been enjoying this series, keeping an eye open as I walk the neighborhood for different places Montparnasse peeks over the rooftops. I'm also enjoying doing this series a little smaller and looser than some of my watercolors. The bottom one was drawn in ballpoint instead of my more usual pencil.

I was on my way to bed last night and going to close the curtains when I saw the moon rising over the Paris rooftops. It took my breath away, and I had to sketch it before going to sleep. I was tired and tried not to, but it kept calling. And I never really regret it when the call is strong like that.

Here are two more quick journal sketches from the last few days, done in the midst of other work.

I saw the Hokusai exhibit here in Paris a couple of years ago, and it really stuck with me. I had already liked his work a lot, but both the prints and drawn books were stunning in person. As a landscape artist, I was most struck by the views of Mt. Fiji. The prints themselves were gorgeous, and I also liked that he picked a theme to explore with such variety and creativity. He did 36 views of Mt. Fiji from a wide variety of locations and distances and viewpoints.

Memphis has one office building off by itself away from downtown that is visible for miles, and I've been tempted to try a series of views of the Clark Tower. That, whoever, would involve a great deal of driving around the suburbs, which I just don't enjoy, so it hasn't gotten past the idea phase.

Now, however, I'm staying in a new neighborhood of Paris with Montparnasse, their solo sky scraper, just out my window. I have, as I have mentioned, a gorgeously large two story window, and I've been doing cloud studies and enjoying the solid shape of Montparnasse against the sky. It occurred to me yesterday that I could do view of Montparnasse while I'm here. I won't manage 36, but I did three more today, which brings me to 14. It even has "mont" in the name. So perfect.

I am deeply aware that for buyers at home, the Eiffel Tower would be a much more popular and sellable subject matter, but I just don't feel drawn to it. It's lovely, but it is everywhere, and I feel like such a cliche painting it. I want to do views of Paris that are beautiful but not tourist postcards. Maybe I'll get over there to sketch before the trip is up, but I'm not feeling it at the moment and don't want to feel like a sell out making my art. So, for the moment, Montparnasse it is.

I wrote about stars being the theme of the trip the other day. I've followed that up with a celebratory self portrait of myself in this space with the view of the sky I've so been enjoying. It's a little bit of magical thinking, since I can't actually see this many stars with the light pollution in Paris (and I think I could stand to thin a few out artistically anyway), but the Persieds are happening right now, and I do feel surrounded by stars this trip.

I'm actually doing a series of self portraits this trip. I do them in occasional spurts, not as a steady part of my work. They usually pop up when I'm feeling especially self reflective. I set a goal for myself to think some things through this trip, and I'm not actually getting very far with that (too much painting and socializing both), but perhaps there is some self examination going on at a deeper level since the self portraits keep popping out, although many of them are in teapots.

First here is the original star self portrait, done a little bit after Vincent and the portrait he did with stars in the background. This one made me want to do the more full view one tonight.

Now the teapots.

Above is this year's teapot self portrait at the cafe at Marche Aligre. Last year's was less fully formed, but still visible with me in a red halter top. It's one of my favorite sketches from last year because of the happy memories woven in.

I'm not sure the teapot ones really count as that self reflective, since I also adore painting tea things, but the volume is a little telling. We'll see. Sometimes I also use them to mark a really good day or place, as I did with last year's. I may just be on a spurt right now. But sometimes my art brain is picking up on things faster than my conscious one does, as happened with that dancing series I did last year. Art is always hardwired into the deepest parts of who I am.

Aside from the enormous window, my favorite thing about the new place this summer is its proximity to Luxembourg Gardens. It is such a luxury to wander over, paint a while, and then wander home for tea and lunch afterwards. I'm also enjoying walking home through them and stopping to savor the evening sunshine.

I love how Paris, and so many places in Europe, invite people out to be in community. Americans tend to stay sealed up in their homes with their air conditioning and televisions. Paris goes out to play. I pass people in the parks playing ping pong and bocce ball (or whatever the French equivalent is), having picnics, renting remote controlled sailboats in the big fountains, reading, chatting, eating ice cream. It's lovely. Everyone comes out to rub shoulders.

You don't too often talk to strangers, but I had a lovely happening the other day. It was a little chilly, and I was huddled up painting. An older man came over to look at my painting and chat for a minute, and he ended up asking if he could bring me a tea or coffee. It was so unexpectedly kind. He was there just reading his paper but was excited about my art. I accepted and then did him a quick sketch as a thank you. We were both pleased and touched. I also appreciated the chance to talk about parks as well and practice my French a bit. He was very patient with me and only had to translate a couple of things I didn't understand. That was lovely.

Below is the journal sketch that led to the painting above. I moved around a bit in the final painting to get a more dynamic composition.

Stars have been a theme of this trip. There's a stunning Vincent portrait with a starry background in the Orsay. I did a copy of it in the spring, so I don't have it with me to post, but it has continued to speak to me. I saw a lovely modern etching in a gallery window of a boy surrounded by and wearing stars. Just last night there was a watercolor portrait with a starry background in the art of animation show I went to see. I had already sketched a small statue of a boy holding one star up on a pole, and I found a charming dress with constellations on it several days ago. We are now in the midst of the Perseids, and then walking home last night I was gobsmacked by the shining half moon. I've been meaning to try a self portrait a la Vincent, and last night seemed like the night. I also had to add the moon, since I watch her so much and almost always wear my moon pendant.

I'm still enjoying painting the gorgeous clouds of Paris. Memphis often flattens out to a dull haze for much of the summer, but the clouds here are magnificent. As is my view of them. A double story window is a beautiful luxury for a sky painter. I did two cloud studies from the couch this evening, and I'm going to miss that when I go home, even as I will also rejoice to rejoin my beloved oak trees.

Here are two more from last night.

Plus a quick, done in the almost dark study of the moon slipping behind the rooftops across the way.