Simply for the good of the soul
Dufy in his art studio, Le Havre, 1908
The belly of his brush leaned heavily onto the paper, it’s life flowing and creating a vast blue wash. Dufy turned his head quickly, glasses sliding low on his nose, hardly looking to choose his next colour. His painted hands squeezed the last pigment from the vermilion tube. His brush drank til full bellied once again for the hundredth time that afternoon. This time on the paper he let it carelessly spill like ink. The colours impatiently ran the race. The red jumped the queue, bossing the blue but that was fine in the end the blue bowed to the red.
Hours later he returned to his studio to paint the seeds. He began with their stems, glossed all down one side, from top to bottom with a last ray of sunlight. Looking across the room, he said, over the top of his ancient glasses, ‘Keep it simple. Remember. Never sacrifice the palette. Colour is life! Give it a hug, let the colour breathe.’
The student nodded and smiled. He understood.
Brother in art.
And the room and its huge arched windows with their generous gift of light, lent them warmth. They felt perfectly safe, cocooned in art, feeling braver than any before them, spoiling themselves with colour; to spoil us with colour; for the good of the soul. Yes.
Quite simply, for the good of the soul.
Delightful.