Here is an extract from the latest one… Panel 3, resting in PingAn (which means Peace-Harmony ) and the following day, thence to Wan Ping
And this is how it all fits together. I have had such fun dreaming my way into this one, despite having a tough time when I started, as I didn’t think I was going to be able to dig up the kind of affectionate warmth that flooded in with the Beethoven by Bike cartoons.
The magic of this panel comes from the memory of an exquisite full moon night in PingAn, when I sat out on my balcony with the view that I have just painted simply enfolding me. Then being mesmerised by the softly dancing bamboo beneath me.
I am so glad that the paper I am using is strong enough to take so much paint.
The next piece of magic has been to have a fabulous book/catalogue of traditional Chinese paintings to browse through…… oh and then, eureka! ,. . . . in the tradition of lots of imaginative artists, how sweet to insert a few little scenes……. and what about imagining ourselves into those caricatures as though we belong in the pictures?
Also, how amazing to find in the catalogue a painting entitled “Moonlight Sonata” . . So I have been able to put the calligraphy for this apt title into the frame and dear Ludwig seems to have winkled his way in. Hurrah!
Why did Jeanette get the elbow?
Her knees were really giving her jip by the time we had walked up and down so many steps to the next village, so I got my elbow out and stuck it in, so to speak, to her deep hip rotators, which helped to ease some of the pain in her knee. She didn’t half jump!
Meanwhile on the other side of the hill, with the more energetic crowd, Mr. Tang was in a spot. There wasn’t a food source anywhere in the village save for a lone man whose wife had left him for a couple of days to work in the fields. He had a fridge which was off, off also, then, the swelling plastic bags therein. . . The only edible morsel was a pig’s head, which our dear Tang duly washed and scrubbed and proceeded to cook over a fire in the centre of the floor, to be added to rice, I believe.
When they all arrived back at the hotel, Mr. Tang, who normally bounced long after everyone had collapsed, fell asleep on the couch, having confessed to feeling a ‘bit tired’
The onward ride the following day started with a descent to dream of. So peaceful before the arrival of the tourist buses.
In our dining room that evening, the adjacent table was full of banqueting Chinese. The men either roll their shirts up to cool their midriffs, or remove their tops altogether. Seated at the table it gives a wonderful illusion of a happy group of naturists. . . . Women are rather more demure.
Hopefully tomorrow I get a handle on the 4th of 5 panels. I wonder what the journey will have in store?
Aren’t I lucky to be doing it again!
Nothing like as hard work as the spinning class last night, hey Wendy???