This is the third time that i take part to Montmartre event in Clisson, a beautiful painting contest. !

Freshly arrived on saturday morning, gear checked and light meal taken.

I search a beautiful overlooking to start my painting. The task is not very obvious.. indeed, Clisson is full of different colours, landscapes and architectures.

Italy’s flavour and medieval architecture make a start on pencil’s stroke.

Parfum d’Italie et architectures médiévales commencent à s’esquisser sous les traits de crayon des 

The city wakes up quietly and is tinged deliciously by sculptors, drawers and painters. Photographers immortalize the event becoming reporters just for a shot

Pauses succeed while bad weather and wind disappear make out a sun’s sketch. My ascent starts park Henri the fourth, down the castle. To the river banks, surrounded by fishermen, dukes and an other painter, i try to sketch some strokes quickly faded by a shower. Looking for the sky with it nice shade of grey, i decide to choose a sheltered place.

With some regrets, i leave this beautiful landscape.This one has been painted a lot of time by artists during the nineteen century, attracted by Clisson thanks to the sculptor of Napoleon the first, François Frederic Lemot and brothers Cacault.

If Clisson lend itself as especially to be painted,it’s not just for its colours and landscapes but thanks to its artists. This amazing event has a rightful place in this artistic city.

I search for a sheltered place to tickle my artistic soul. I wander the city discovering all the paintings on my walk. Point of views are full of easels and are a daydream’s invite

I enjoy admiring the avalanche of different techniques. Clisson is guessed by pastels, is illuminated by watercolours, is freezed by acrylic and is dissolved by oil. Leaving the charcoal drawing it and the sanguine waking up its hot colours, specific to this french Tivoli…

I finish to discover my best place at the heart of the Warren Valentine ‘s park., a walled from the nineteen century.  I slide between its arches, and start to color with pastels my piece of paper. My fingers execute, my piece of paper is filled,

I let my mind wander between nature, peace and silence…

Photos: crédit E. Marguinaud