the photograph of the painting was small
It was in the back of an airline magazine, but the color caught my eye. I love orange shades — as a friend who concurs once said: He told me I look like sorbet, and I said: I taste like sorbet. 😉 She was wearing something orange, and I commented on it, and that was her response.
Anyway, I read the article about the painting and was amazed that it is the main masterpiece at the Museum of Art in Ponce, Puerto Rico. Needless to say, on my next trip, my Mom and I drove to the other side of the island (sounds so Rhode Island-ish), and we visited the museum for the first time, though not the last. I do plan to go every time I’m on the island.
it is lovely
Flaming June, tempting, lazy and content, peacefully dreaming in your coral dress, have you ever known despair?
She made it into Like A Blue Thread and reminds me of the Eve I saw in Valencia, Spain. With whom I fell in love and who made it into the novel too. I have my own Flaming June in a thick, gold leaf frame, but it’s not the same as seeing the artwork on a museum wall in a large room. Actually, mine does not hang on a wall anymore. I took it down a few months ago because it has faded over the years! Will order a good print, bring it to the Providence Picture Frame, and have them frame it. I don’t want to wait until I go to the museum again to buy the print.
The museum is on the southwest of the island, not far from the Serrallés Distillery and castle. I have never been to the distillery but have been to the castle grounds. The western side of Puerto Rico is different than the east — weather and flora-wise. But still also lovely. Must be the word of the day.
She throws change in the tollbooth basket and goes off, map on lap.
The landscape is different on the western side of the island. It changed from high clouds on open highways to coffee and moss on winding roads, from tree clumps into forests that wind along hairpin curves where wooden shacks, with zinc roofs and crooked windows, wait for someone, anyone, to look in and see that time has stopped and regressed, bathing everything, invisibly, with life.
Like A Blue Thread
Beach Plum
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