Studying Greek
When I told friends I was taking a 3 week painting trip to Greece, most frowned and tried to talk me out of it. The news from Europe in general and Greece in particular has been lousy, but we plein air painters are used to adversity and while we don’t welcome danger, if there’s a good painting to be had we generally go into serious denial. Think of painters in Yosemite armed with nothing but pointy brushes and a can of bear spray--now that’s denial. I seldom revisit countries--my bucket list is too long to go to the same place twice--but the islands we would be visiting were way off the beaten track and I’d get to paint, laugh and eat with several long time artist friends, so I packed up my kit and took off at the beginning of May. I’m so glad I did! I painted 35 “sketches”--small oil paintings of boats, ancient ruins, more boats, the beautiful colors of the Aegean harbors, tiny store fronts, tinier streets and of course, laundry.
We painted all day long unless we were on a wooden ferry boat sailing from one island to the next. I had a greek salad every day and if I was lucky I also enjoyed a whole freshly caught and grilled fish. The potatoes were always french fries. I might have to do a painting of the food, it was that good. We were served cappuccinos and “bickeys” (that’s Australian for “biscuits”) each day at 11:30. A very civilized practice and lesson in gracious living that I have taken home with me.
It only rained for 2 days and I must confess I got some really nice paintings when I was crouched under an awning for a few hours. It’s amazing how concentration improves when there’s absolutely no one on the street but you--even the cats stayed home. Speaking of cats, they were everywhere and quite beautiful until you ignored them, One almost toppled my easel in his/her attempt to get my attention and another one practically climbed in my lap at lunch one day. Oh well--better than a grizzly bear!
While painting a row of stunning aegean blue/green doors on a tiny street I counted 25 trips back and forth by a string of donkeys toting bags of cement to some unknown construction site. Tinkling bells signaled their approach to give us enough time to hug the walls. On another street, three curious kids began watching my painting progress when suddenly 3 chairs were being lowered from the balcony above me. Their mom apparently decided I was the new babysitter, or possibly a live performance of Nickleodeon. They sat and watched my for a full hour and I must say I wish all critics were that kind and happy with my work!
Naturally, I painted a lot of boats--but I was really in love with the colors of the Aegean. I was enthralled by the streaks of vibrant teal, sparkles of pink and lavender in a rich base of stunning ultramarine blue (must be where they got the name). I learned a really important lesson: Only paint the boats that don’t move! This may sound strange, but every time I started to paint a boat in the water, someone came along and took it out to sea. After 3 failed attempts to complete paintings of boats tied to the dock, I learned to enjoy painting the beautiful older ones that lay serenely on their sides on the beach or propped on oil cans while waiting on the dock to be repaired. Besides being unlikely to move any time soon, their colors were weathered and varied and they looked like they had some really interesting stories to tell.
I learned another lesson when one friend lost the heavy brass key to his room. The owner said, “No worries--here’s another one--all room keys are the same.” I guess if you’ve been repeatedly invaded by Ottomans, Italians and tourists you learn not to sweat the small stuff. I’ll try to remember that.
Kalimera! (Good day!)
Jane
