Nearly Dusk
“Nearly Dusk”
An impression of rue Quincampoix drawn with coloured pencils.
December 2016.
Afternoon light is fading. Sky blue has already leached to cool white. A rosy tinge will infuse itself into the atmosphere but not quite yet. Lights pop on as restaurants and bars prepare themselves for another busy evening. It is nearly dusk on rue Quincampoix.
Julie Podstolski - Abstract Realism 
It is like magic!
I never thought of myself as a magician, Cousin.
Well, you are, to me.
And you are to me too, Cousin. You’re family!
Julie ,I love this one –it is just beautiful. Especially the way you have treated the lights.
You will have no trouble finding a buyer for this beauty.
Love. Judy.
That’s heartening, Judy! I’m glad it resonates with you. (In a whisper: I like it a lot as well.)
There is something about that moment when the lights start coming on, it is comforting, the day is ending, time to settle. This is a simple, clean composition, difficult to carry off well, but you have. Another great addition to the series!
Oddly enough, Anna, in daily life I can find this exact time of day to be a bit depressing. It’s like I go down a bit but then later on come back up again. We’ve talked before about the sweetness of melancholia. Quite often I felt a sense of melancholy as I walked around Paris. Of course there is so much tragic history on the Parisian streets; maybe I was tapping into it.
I love your latest work. The feeling of space and depth is amazing. How do you balance the realities of 2017 and the romance and aura of Paris and Europe? Is creating beautiful works wishful thinking or staying true to oneself? I read a quote by Picasso who said, “Art is a lie that reveals the truth.”
Hi Nick, I love your question about balancing the realities of 2017 and the romance and aura of Paris. During my two weeks of walking around Paris, I was often melancholy as I have a good dose of melancholia in my make-up. I saw plenty to make me sad; homeless people sleeping rough including with very small children as well as refugees and any number of beggars. I saw groups of soldiers patrolling the streets carrying large automatic weapons. I asked myself the same question you are asking.
While I took on board the misery I saw, I didn’t record any of it with my camera. (For one thing I wasn’t going to point my camera at people begging or soldiers with their guns at the ready.) No, I only photographed that which I found beautiful artistically. I saw scenes which lifted me out of sadness, indeed, prompting sparks of pure elation.
While in Paris I saw a lot of art from around the 1st and 2nd world wars in galleries; artists whose works were politically charged and who felt the need to protest. These works are potent and disturbing. I am not like those courageous artists who commented loudly and strongly on the awful events unfolding around them.
When I am home and choosing what to draw from my source photos, I am bringing to the fore those images which touch me and make me happy. So, yes, I listen and watch what is going on. I don’t think my head is in the sand. But I want to draw qualities of light, moments of time, evocative atmospheres; things which make my heart glad.
Thanks Julie for taking the time to reply. I guess we can stay true to one’s heart and be open but also aware in the present
Nick, I thought about your question when writing the words for my next drawing, “Good Morning Paris”. I published that blog post today.