Italy in watercolor:paint me a picture
#22
Join Date: Apr 2004
Posts: 26
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
gelato in the summer -- the most succulent, creamy concoction! wearing a backpack full of the veneto's best vino (valpolicella & soave) while climbing the tower in verona... my nieghbor's irises & daffodils... thunderstorm over the boboli gardens in florence, making nearby olive trees look like silver... i hope you have a great trip!!
#23
Join Date: Feb 2003
Posts: 11
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
Tuscan Dawn
Each dawn the sun releases the ancient hilltops from their nightly sentinel.
The golden light pours slowly down the hills and settles into the valleys for a moment here, a moment there. The smallest blade of grass shifts slightly to receive its full share of nurturing warmth. Houses glow with the tones of the earth and the farmer's dance with the land begins anew.
Shadows soften as the sun moves on, revealing shady pastures and sleepy-headed sheep. Birds sing with the tolling bells. Shutters swing open with a creak and an iron clang as they are locked into place. The mist gently lifts and disappears with the moon into the blue sky.
In Italy when a child is born, it is "dato alla luce", given to the light. For thousands of years, each day the land is given to the light and is born again.
G. Hecko
Each dawn the sun releases the ancient hilltops from their nightly sentinel.
The golden light pours slowly down the hills and settles into the valleys for a moment here, a moment there. The smallest blade of grass shifts slightly to receive its full share of nurturing warmth. Houses glow with the tones of the earth and the farmer's dance with the land begins anew.
Shadows soften as the sun moves on, revealing shady pastures and sleepy-headed sheep. Birds sing with the tolling bells. Shutters swing open with a creak and an iron clang as they are locked into place. The mist gently lifts and disappears with the moon into the blue sky.
In Italy when a child is born, it is "dato alla luce", given to the light. For thousands of years, each day the land is given to the light and is born again.
G. Hecko
#28
Join Date: Apr 2004
Posts: 47
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
the crumbling dignity of centuries old buildings baking in the sun. the relief of the water fountains. the taste of fluffy ice cream. the screaming of scooters. the perfume of island lemon trees.
the heads of young men hanging out the train windows as it drives deeper south. sauteed eggplant that dissolves in your mouth. a bottle of wine on the piazza watching the nighttime strollers.
the heads of young men hanging out the train windows as it drives deeper south. sauteed eggplant that dissolves in your mouth. a bottle of wine on the piazza watching the nighttime strollers.
#29
Join Date: Jan 2003
Posts: 2,130
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
My most vivid memories of Italy are in Venice, my favorite:
No cars, no vespas, only the sounds of vaporettos, taxis, and other water boats.
Buildings peeling where one can see the many layers of stucco, wood, brick, paint with every color imaginable: Ochre, pink, yellow and orange hues.
The waters of the Grand Canal sparkling in the sun, while gondoliers sing to the tourists in their sleek black and gold trim gondolas wearing their red/white stripped shirt and sleek black hats.
Reflections of the buildings in the water with a boat tied to the side next to small bridge.
Windows trimmed with cascading flowers.
Sparrows singing while circling Church towers in the early morning hours.
Wandering residential neighborhoods and back streets and getting lost. Discovering a lovely quiet corner. Greeting an old woman, Buon Giorno Signora.
Watching the Venetians shop for produce at the Rialto market. The fruit! The vegetables! How perfect they are.
Venetian masks. Murano glass. Gold shops on the Rialto bridge.
Food: The best bread ever: Olive bread, moist with chopped green olives. Heavenly! Buffalo mozzarella ? divine! Melts in ones mouth it is so fresh and moist. Pasta with truffle sauce; crostini; fried calamari, gelato, and wine.
Sitting at an outdoor café with a glass of house wine and watching the world go by.
My Grand Canal view at Hotel Galleria. I felt the Grand Canal was mine!
Ah, Venice!!
Assisi: Waking up one morning to fog in the valley.
San Gimignano: Spectacular views from the Torre Grosso ? time has stood still.
Tuscany: Driving along and seeing the beautiful vineyards, farmhouses, towns on hilltops.
Okay, I better stop here! Only 29 days and counting till my trip to Tuscany.
Ciao!
Monica
No cars, no vespas, only the sounds of vaporettos, taxis, and other water boats.
Buildings peeling where one can see the many layers of stucco, wood, brick, paint with every color imaginable: Ochre, pink, yellow and orange hues.
The waters of the Grand Canal sparkling in the sun, while gondoliers sing to the tourists in their sleek black and gold trim gondolas wearing their red/white stripped shirt and sleek black hats.
Reflections of the buildings in the water with a boat tied to the side next to small bridge.
Windows trimmed with cascading flowers.
Sparrows singing while circling Church towers in the early morning hours.
Wandering residential neighborhoods and back streets and getting lost. Discovering a lovely quiet corner. Greeting an old woman, Buon Giorno Signora.
Watching the Venetians shop for produce at the Rialto market. The fruit! The vegetables! How perfect they are.
Venetian masks. Murano glass. Gold shops on the Rialto bridge.
Food: The best bread ever: Olive bread, moist with chopped green olives. Heavenly! Buffalo mozzarella ? divine! Melts in ones mouth it is so fresh and moist. Pasta with truffle sauce; crostini; fried calamari, gelato, and wine.
Sitting at an outdoor café with a glass of house wine and watching the world go by.
My Grand Canal view at Hotel Galleria. I felt the Grand Canal was mine!
Ah, Venice!!
Assisi: Waking up one morning to fog in the valley.
San Gimignano: Spectacular views from the Torre Grosso ? time has stood still.
Tuscany: Driving along and seeing the beautiful vineyards, farmhouses, towns on hilltops.
Okay, I better stop here! Only 29 days and counting till my trip to Tuscany.
Ciao!
Monica
#30
Join Date: Jan 2003
Posts: 1,766
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
I wish I could attach an image to this web site. I painted a watercolor of Italy. A street scene in Milan with two italian soilders and a woman walking past some shops. I did an oil painting of a street scene in Verona and included a young Sophia Loren as one of the people strolling up the street near their collosium.
#31
Join Date: Jan 2003
Posts: 2,130
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
Jor,
Email me (use [email protected]) the photo and I'll add a link (for a short time) to my web site.
Email me (use [email protected]) the photo and I'll add a link (for a short time) to my web site.
#32
Join Date: Jan 2003
Posts: 1,766
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
monicapileggi, I would love to show my watercolor, and oil of Itay. I wish there was an "attachment" feature.
However I and most peoeple on this board want to remain annonymus. thanks for the offer and your interest.
However I and most peoeple on this board want to remain annonymus. thanks for the offer and your interest.
#33
Join Date: Oct 2003
Posts: 1,115
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
Isabella illustrates with a splendid paintbrush of words. I lifted this from my Journal.
"This morning before we left to San Biagio (beautiful Cypress lined roadway in) I was listening to our resident Cuckoo. Swifts, Magpies were circling and darting about. A family of Quail were traipsing across the garden. Lightning bugs and the Freesia aroma of Ginestra's yellow waifted through the air. Poppies, Larkspur and what looks like Indian Paintbrush cover the fields." All this while sitting beneath a Laurel tree (provided us with Bay leaves)eating Salami, Blood Orange, Cheese and leftover bread from dinner.
"This morning before we left to San Biagio (beautiful Cypress lined roadway in) I was listening to our resident Cuckoo. Swifts, Magpies were circling and darting about. A family of Quail were traipsing across the garden. Lightning bugs and the Freesia aroma of Ginestra's yellow waifted through the air. Poppies, Larkspur and what looks like Indian Paintbrush cover the fields." All this while sitting beneath a Laurel tree (provided us with Bay leaves)eating Salami, Blood Orange, Cheese and leftover bread from dinner.
#36
Join Date: Apr 2004
Posts: 12
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
Piazza Santa Maria in Trastevere...early morning... dawn-struck...the sound of the fountains' liquid-trickle, gurgle- behind me....starlings pierce the pastel dawn with swift precision, lean cat's stalk lazily, feigning boredom, and old, pasta-stuffed dogs still snooze--one eye cracked...semi-alert for stray morsels, nostrils twitching....the seductive aroma of espresso and fresh baked cornetti invade the chilled morning air. In the stillness of morning, I contemplate the rust colored walls of the church, as black-shawled grandmothers shuffle towards sacred doors with devout purpose. Eventually, old dog and I succumb to the siren call and persistent perfume of the espresso machine................
#37
Original Poster
Join Date: May 2003
Posts: 250
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
I just wanted to say thanks to everyone who responded to my post! With school and everything else, it's been hectic this past month and 1/2. The responses are all very inventive. I just hope that I am as perceptive at capturing my memories on paper as this group is.
Thanks again!
Patricia
Thanks again!
Patricia
#38
Guest
Posts: n/a
Go to Venice; go to San Marco....at night after all the other tourists ahve gone. SPEND that money you were going to use on videos on an EXPENSIVE cup of coffee or bottle of wine at Florian; sit back; listen to the music in the so-called "Drawing Room of Europe" and forget about fumes, Tuscany red dirt, and all your cares.
Enjoy your trip
Enjoy your trip
#39
Join Date: Mar 2004
Posts: 900
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
San Marco Piazza-One fiercely determined vendor in the middle of the square, an umbrella over his cart futilly trying to ward off the pouring rain that all other tourists and vendors had run from.
St. Peter's--too awesome for my feeble vocabulary. I am not the poet Isabella is.
Milan--Sitting in an outdoor cafe with a bottle of wine, gazing awe-struck at the cathedral (so enthralled we forgot to go inside!) and watching the children chasing pidgeons.
Too afraid of boring folks with all the mental pictures.
Worst moment--right now when it's far too long to October when we go back.
St. Peter's--too awesome for my feeble vocabulary. I am not the poet Isabella is.
Milan--Sitting in an outdoor cafe with a bottle of wine, gazing awe-struck at the cathedral (so enthralled we forgot to go inside!) and watching the children chasing pidgeons.
Too afraid of boring folks with all the mental pictures.
Worst moment--right now when it's far too long to October when we go back.
Thread
Original Poster
Forum
Replies
Last Post
JandaO
Europe
17
Sep 17th, 2006 07:28 AM