“I don’t reproach the spring
for starting up again.
I can’t blame it
for doing what it must
year after year.
I know that my grief
will not stop the green.”
― Wisława Szymborska, View with a Grain of Sand: Selected Poems
Spring, pencil, oil crayons and watercolor on paper, 2024
2024
#spring #painting #tamarajare #landscapepainting #contemporaryartist #fineart #contemporaryart
Self Portrait with my Mother, after Édouard Manet Un bar aux Folies Bergère, oil on canvas, 2023
Time of Peonies, oil on canvas, 2021
It’s been one of those mornings, when light is bright and garden is still calm, like enveloped in the mist of the night just passed and the blossoms of colorful flowers appear after the dark of the night to celebrate the day. Complete solitude is needed to enter the code of color world, walking down the garden feels like entering trough portals of eternal beauty. Picking flowers for a bouquet is a meditative task and as I’ve been picking the first peonies of the season I’ve remembered how happy I’ve been planting these pale pink peonies and how long have I waited before thy started to blossom. Their sweet scent of early summer each June gives me joy and makes me want to paint them in all their gorgeous beauty, so fragile and short lived, but year after year appearing in the corner of the garden, near a small Japanese maple.
Artichokes, oil on canvas, 2019
This canvas was made after a photo of mine, taken the same year. It was spring, I remember, as I visited Udine with my husband. I can still see the bright day it was as we crossed the market in the old town. Always attracted by beautifully arranged vegetables, fruits, I was taking some pics. As I saw these artichokes I got stuck by the gorgeous colors. How widely had someone put them on display on the bright electric blue vinyl cloth, just to accentuate the herbaceous greens and pinks of the first artichokes of the season!
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