It’s the light in Italy that grabs the tired soul. That and the endless shadows that drift across the landscape. Over the years I have come to realise that shadows have a harsh blue tinge in winter. Then as the air warms the shadows become rich purples and deep turquoise. Temperature has a lot to do with memory.
This painting of the quay leading to St Marks square was completed largely from memory. The air was still cold, so even though the temperature in the sun was pleasant, the memory of my first Easter on Italy came back. My limited wardrobe squeezed into a backpack was without sweaters. So, my first view of this lovely part of Venice was tinged with cold and shaking fingers: the moment warmed my heart enough that I didn’t need a coffee until I found a back street bar with sensible prices.