Mixed Media on canvas, stretched and ready to hang.

Signed on the front.

Paris .. the city of light, dreaming and love and where they say that even poverty is an art form.
Ernest Hemingway wrote of Paris -
“The people that I liked and had not met went to the big cafes because they were lost in them and no one noticed them and they could be alone in them and be together.”
Like life in a bubble and alone with dreams and aspirations that could soar to the heavens or pop without warning.
I'm not sure which is more difficult to me, the painting of this picture or the writing about it.
As I began the initial charcoal lines the intention was it keep it loose and dreamlike, almost abstract, but it took its own course.
We gaze across to Mont Marte as Mont Marte gazes back across the city.
I drift in dream emerging from the narrow streets of realism to hover briefly above the more abstracted image, before drifting back across the rooftops that begin to distort and waver but still make sense.
Dream on.