Recent Musings. . .

I used to be terrified of Dutch still lives.  They were so sombre, with scary rosy-cheeked maidens getting their butts pinched and obscene amounts of food.  Somewhere along the way I began to adore them for those very same reasons.  No one can paint black like the Dutch masters, and most especially, pears.  Their pears are human, seductive, begging to be touched.  Their pears are a romance unto themselves.  They emerge from the shadows like movie stars, proffer their roundness and then take it away into two dimensions.  We can all learn from flirting like that.

This is the first of a series of Dutch still life postings.  An homage to the pear begins it.

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