JON-LUC AND THE REINCARNATION

Jean-Luc Gréau is a famous French economist and also a local café-friend that I have known for seventeen years. He has published several books and has written for various newspapers including Le Monde.

His theme is, "Governments no longer exists. Banks rule the world." We have only discussed economics since I've known him. Never art. Nonetheless,  I invited him to my retrospective-exposition last spring on the le rue des Trois Frerès and he said that he would come. The next time I saw him, he apologized for not coming to the show and asked me to bring some works down to the café. He did not want to visit my studio. I didn't want to schlep into my local café like a Fuller brush salesman with an arm full of paintings.

 While rearranging my apartment a couple of weeks ago I came across a porte folio with  unframed watercolors from my show and some recent works.  Learning that the café was about to close for vacation, and seeing that he was there, I decided to take a chance. "pourquoi pas?"

He was pleased to see me with the fat bundle under my arm. We opened it up "Reincarnation", a water color that I had made in India in 1977 was second or third. This is the one I want. He asked the price and said "okay". I explained the story behind it. He didn't bother looking at the other works, but took out his checkbook and handed it over.We crossed paths yesterday and he said that he was very pleased with his choice. Looks at it in the morning and before he goes to sleep.

So,  maybe banks don't rule the world.

POST EXPO WATERCOLORS

around the world

clara luna

Upstream

the agement

the spell

the journey

Flo

MARY BLAKE COMES OUT of the trunk

This is a water color that I made in a mountain village in notrthean Italy in 1974. 
Perhaps more exotique than the little village became.

 Jean Michel Faudemer, the director of the galerie 3F on the rue des Trois Fréres gave me a call a couple of weeks ago and asked me if I'd like to fill in a spot he had open in April. I've already shown at his lovely gallery three times and each time had a lot of fun but haven't shown anywhere in three years having finding my blog and facebook far less stressful to reveal my images and I don't have to face the crowd.

Jean Michel helped me enormously at the past openings. If someone said they liked a work, I'd immediately call him over and he would talk-it-up. When I open my mouth, I usually confuse the person so badly that his first impression becomes so tangled, the admirer  walks away.

I have lots of new work and thought that I could handle the framing so gladly agreed thinking it might wipe out the February blues in Paris.

He said that he woulds stop by the next day. We chose a few works, but then he became very curious about this large wooden trunk I had pushed aside. It's where I have kept my works on paper safe and dry for many years.
I showed him a few works and he kept saying. I want to see more.  "Encore Mary.Encore" There are probably over a hundred  oeuvres dating back to 1974 some not signed some not dated.

So we agreed to show recent works along a progression of earlier works. Une petite retrspective.
I hope it works'. 

galerie 3f

58 rue des Trois Fréres

75018 Paris

23 avril au 3 mai 2013

le galerie est ouvert de 13:30 au 19:30

bird in hand

THE PLANET PARIS

Two score and forty minuets ago, I landed on the planet Paris. November 2nd 1972. It was a big step for me considering the uncertainties. The rest is history.

LE RELAIS DE VINS - CHEZ LOUIS

I visited The Fourm at Les Halles today hoping to find some sport shoes to fulfill a New Year's resolution, but ended up in the same kind of panic that I feel at the Louvre. Trapped. It seemed like the labyrinth they challenge white mice also, but when I saw SORTIE rue Rambuteau I took it and found myself to safety. A neighborhood familiar when Les Halles was still a big hole in the ground.  But I thought it would be a good occasion to visit Louis at his wine bar on rue Saint Denis - if he was still there. I met Louis twenty-five years ago when I stayed in an apartment across the street on a visit from New York. "Is it your clients that wake me up coming out of the bar at two in the morning?" He smiled and said, "Yes." I melted. He even came to the exhibition that I was having in the Latin Quarter. "I can't buy a painting now he whispered, but I will when things get better..."Five years later when I had converted to painting in the street, I thought of him. It was August and I was hard up for rent money.

I showed him my recent oeuvres and he prompted me to paint his Café. I spent a colorful week on rue Saint Denis which once was galore with les filles and then 1987 was spotted with sex shops and new wave ready-to-wear boutiques including black leather bras. Long hot summer days I worked hoping he would buy it. At the end he said.

"Perhaps after my vacation." In the meantime my wonderful nephew visited me and bought the painting and paid me in bits and pieces over a years time.

On my way to his bistro I reminisced about his very kind manors and gentle voice. Why didn't I tell him back then? He was divorced and free.  I guess I lacked confidance.  

I was happy to find Louis still there with his seductive smile, but less hair. He recognized  me even with my white locks. Busy with a lunch crowd, he offered me a glass of the wine of the day. I peered over the counter and with much surprise saw my painting on his calling card. 

"Ooooh and helped myself to two of them. A gentleman having a café at the bar said,

"C'est vous qui avez fait." He remembered me from twenty years ago. I read the back. "Did he give you a credit?" he asked.

I shook my head no.

He doesn't have a right.

I said, "I know." having had a number of copyright violation, I knew very well the law.

"Louis, if I didn't love you, I'd sue you." I said waving the card.

He smiled still quite busy with customers paying up for lunch.

I had an appointment at three o'clock back in Montmartre so was out the door thanking him for the glass of wine. Well, at least I told him I thought on the way back home.