Collioure Post No 3 (Charles Rennie Mackintosh Residency 2013)
Apologies to Stephen Clarke for the misappropriation of his book title.
I know most of you reading this will be thinking “a month in Collioure, south of France; that’s not work, that’s a holiday!” But here’s the rub; at some point during the next two years I have to put enough paintings together, based on the work that I have executed in Collioure, for a solo exhibition somewhere in the UK. Depending on the venue that can mean anything up to around 70 paintings. That’s not including the preparatory drawings and studies that need to happen before the paintings can even materialize. So Collioure means work for the recipients of the Charles Rennie Mackintosh residency.
Collioure Day 3. Now that my cunning plan is in ruins because of my “extreme and irrational fear of heights” (see my "Vertigo" post published 5 June 2013), I need to revise my strategy ... and quickly. I decide that if I stick to walking and avoid driving over the mountains, I should be ok. And let’s face it, I could do with the exercise. So I start to explore Collioure, Port Vendres and the surrounding (low-lying) countryside by foot, which opens up new vistas and generates many new ideas.
However a new problem arises – how to avoid the mountains of dog pooh everywhere. I spend more time looking at the pavements trying to avoid the carefully located dog mess than looking at my surroundings. I’m baffled because there are numerous (and free) strategically placed doggie pooh bag dispensers handily situated for dog owners to clear up the mess, but they never seem to be used.
The merde really hits the fan when I go to feed the parking meter at Port Vendres and I can’t reach the meter because of the enormous dog pooh situated directly in front of it. While I don’t particularly like paying for my parking, I know the local police in Port Vendres are positively zealous. I have seen them leap out of their Renault Twingo, rubbing their hands in glee at the thought of getting some poor foreign tourist who doesn’t understand French parking regulations.
Apologies to Stephen Clarke for the misappropriation of his book title.
I know most of you reading this will be thinking “a month in Collioure, south of France; that’s not work, that’s a holiday!” But here’s the rub; at some point during the next two years I have to put enough paintings together, based on the work that I have executed in Collioure, for a solo exhibition somewhere in the UK. Depending on the venue that can mean anything up to around 70 paintings. That’s not including the preparatory drawings and studies that need to happen before the paintings can even materialize. So Collioure means work for the recipients of the Charles Rennie Mackintosh residency.
Collioure Day 3. Now that my cunning plan is in ruins because of my “extreme and irrational fear of heights” (see my "Vertigo" post published 5 June 2013), I need to revise my strategy ... and quickly. I decide that if I stick to walking and avoid driving over the mountains, I should be ok. And let’s face it, I could do with the exercise. So I start to explore Collioure, Port Vendres and the surrounding (low-lying) countryside by foot, which opens up new vistas and generates many new ideas.
However a new problem arises – how to avoid the mountains of dog pooh everywhere. I spend more time looking at the pavements trying to avoid the carefully located dog mess than looking at my surroundings. I’m baffled because there are numerous (and free) strategically placed doggie pooh bag dispensers handily situated for dog owners to clear up the mess, but they never seem to be used.
The merde really hits the fan when I go to feed the parking meter at Port Vendres and I can’t reach the meter because of the enormous dog pooh situated directly in front of it. While I don’t particularly like paying for my parking, I know the local police in Port Vendres are positively zealous. I have seen them leap out of their Renault Twingo, rubbing their hands in glee at the thought of getting some poor foreign tourist who doesn’t understand French parking regulations.
