The theme for this week’s JVG Radio Method poem is “ Where Someone Comes From“. (Seriously Jon???)
Good afternoon Jon and welcome from Ronda, in the south of Spain.Thirty nine degrees today Jon, I know how much you like the heat so I thought I’d share that with you.
Thirty nine degrees today Jon, I know how much you like the heat so I thought I’d share that with you.
Last night I was taken by one of the locals to a small bar where they have live music once a week.At the end of each set the singer, who is also the chef shot out to the kitchen to knock up a few plates of tapas, the guitarist went back behind the bar to pour beer and the cahoun player returned to cleaning tables and washing dishes before dashing back on stage.
At the end of each set the singer, who is also the chef shot out to the kitchen to knock up a few plates of tapas, the guitarist went back behind the bar to pour beer and the cahoun player returned to cleaning tables and washing dishes before dashing back on stage.Why is it the drummer always seems to get the short straw?
Why is it the drummer always seems to get the short straw?
You meet a lot of interesting people when you travel, and I’ve been keeping a note of some of their stories, today’s offering courtesy of an encounter I had in Rome a month or so ago.
Finally, I’d like to dedicate this to Dan Towart, a loyal friend for over forty years.
Did I mention it was thirty nine degrees Jon?
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Where Someone Comes From
She came from a small village in the mountains north west of Milan, though Rome had claimed her long ago.
Unable to afford art college in Florence, she accepted an invitation to train under a respected Roman artist in exchange for housekeeping duties, however, it soon became apparent her mentor’s interest lay beyond the canvas.
Undaunted, with the stoic resolve that comes from growing up youngest of eight in a rural peasant household she began painting her impressions of Rome’s streets and piazzas, selling her work mainly to tourists, by the River Tiber.
Her work is extraordinary. Street performer and neighbour Piero laughingly labels her style “Perceptionist.”
“You see what you think is there” he enthuses. “You smell the coffee, taste the bread, hear the clatter of leather soles on cobble stones.”
In summer she paints every morning, wandering the lanes, finding inspiration in the faces, the cafe culture, the bustle.
Afternoons are spent by the river, chatting to locals and tourists, selling her work, reading during the quieter moments, retiring at dusk to a local bar to meet her friends and enjoy a glass of wine – only the one glass, always.
During the colder months she works from her apartment, completing unfinished works and filling the odd commission.
For their quality her paintings are not expensive, yet still more than many tourists are willing to pay, fooled by the tacky prints peddled on street corners close to the many famous landmarks.
Friends complain her prices are too cheap, but as ever, she is pragmatic, balancing true worth and financial need, happy they afford her the lifestyle she cherishes.
Life has not always been easy; A bad marriage, a minor stroke following the birth of her daughter, a fire destroying much of her work.
Yet, life continues; each breath is sweet, each day is glorious; it permeates her smile, her voice, her paintings.
Engage her regarding art, ideas, technique; about the city she adores and she will speak joyously, generously sharing her knowledge and passion.
But the tourist who doggedly haggles over price or looks intently at the canvas before questioning whether the painting is an original or a print, she will smile graciously and politely suggest “Perhaps my work is not for you”
© Copyright 2016 Ian Bland
Also have a listen to the songs on “Angel In Reverse”