Self Portrait after Manet
Self Portrait with my Mother, after Édouard Manet Un bar aux Folies Bergère, oil on canvas, 2023

Self Portrait with my Mother, after Édouard Manet Un bar aux Folies Bergère, oil on canvas, 2023
Weary of all who come with words, words but no language
I make my way to the snow-covered island.
The untamed has no words.
The unwritten pages spread out on every side!
I come upon the tracks of deer in the snow.
Language but no words.
Tomas Tranströmer: From March 1979
Spruce in Snow, oil on canvas, 2023
There are two things I like doing the most: travelling new places, meeting friends, and painting in my studio. Unfortunately I like painting much more. Unfortunately, as it is quite harder and sometimes people don’t get I just need that loneliness in my studio. Yet, it is right in the studio, painting, when I can travel the most beautiful landscapes across the space and time. Like painting this canvas in the yellow, red and blue: still remember getting a set of three oil crayons from Talens, as about 5 years old girl: yellow, turquoise and red. Pure happiness holding these three colors in my hand as a kid has remained in my heart till today and painting this canvas has brought back all these memories……
From my Studio, oil on canvas, 2023
Self Portrait Study Sketch after Van Gogh, oil on paper
Actually I had a lot of fun with this self portrait. It was made in time of Covid isolation for actual Christies IG open call.
Working on this piece, I’ve tried to stick to original as much as possible, but reinterpretating it on my way. Like starting from the sitter, a doctor, as I did study medicine myself. And accentuating which defines me most.
Or moving on to the flower, possibly Digitalis, at Dr Gachet’s table. I’ve painted it as a bouquet of spring flowers from my garden. Just because “I must have flowers, always, and always.”as Claude Monet said.
Here are tulips, that I’ve painted several times before, and daffodils, for I never can’t get enough of that particular spring yellow color. Then I’ve put some chess flowers into the bouquet. It is an hommage to my home town, as Fritillaria Meleagris or Snake’s head grows in Ljubljana Marshes, becoming quite an extinct species by now. And as my late friend once said to me: ”Why you don’t paint some chess flowers, they are so beautiful.” Or in different words: “Nobody sees a flower – really – it is so small it takes time – we haven’t time – and to see takes time, like to have a friend takes time.” – Georgia O’Keeffe
I’ve painted myself holding brushes, made them green, just to seem as picked flowers. Referencing to art, as Oscar Wilde said: “A work of art is useless as a flower is useless. A flower blossoms for its own joy. We gain a moment of joy by looking at it. That is all that is to be said about our relations to flowers. Of course man may sell the flower, and so make it useful to him, but this has nothing to do with the flower. It is not part of its essence.”
Then I’ve put some books on the table. In a way referencing Albert Camus: “Creating is living doubly. The groping, anxious quest of a Proust, his meticulous collecting of flowers, of wallpapers, and of anxieties, signifies nothing else.”
What more to say, as happily we are out of times of isolation by now, it might happen that I come back to this sketch, just to paint it in oil on canvas…actally I am already looking forward to it 🙂
Tamara
“My home shall be open for the sun and the wind and the voices of the sea- like a Greek temple – and light, light, light everywhere!” Axel Munthe
Capri Villa San Michele, Tamara Jare, oil on canvas, 2021
Roman Statue in Park, Tamara Jare contemporary landscape painting, oil on canvas, 2021.
Roman citizen of Emona, Emonec, is gilded bronze statue dating back to the beginning of the 2nd century depicting a wealthy man wearing folded toga. The statue was part of sepulchral monument from the burial ground in front of the northern gate of Emona, now Ljubljana. The replica of Emonec is today located in Zvezda Park, near the Congress Square. The original is in the Slovenian National Museum.
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.
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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