Saturday, December 18, 2010
Camille Pissarro. L'Hermitage. c. 1868. Oil on canvas.
I'm sure I've said it before, about this very same picture, whilst gazing upon it at some stage in the foggy past. "I'd quite like to spend the day in there". And still I would more than a day. Three weeks should do it. Far from the maddening [sic crowd. As long as I could find coffee, a comfortable place to lie down and relax, a bit of food and the company of a few stray dogs and cats and birds to talk to I would be extremely relieved to have the burden of having to do bloody anything or be bloody anyone to anyone. I could just be me and lie in the shade or sun as the temperature permitted and listen to the wind in the trees, feel the sun on my skin, hear the birds twit twit twittering and wake up to look forward to more such blissfulness.
.......It looks very pleasant there and given its title (which I've only just found), it's no bloody wonder I am so drawn to being there. I could so easily join a hermitage.