I lived in France for several years and remember a day when I thought in French, the only songs I sang were French, my clothes were French and how I loved those French boys. Oh la la. And the wild wonderful food in the restaurants. Early May when the Muguet (a flower) bloomed they were cut and fried in a batter. Oh so good.
This piece reminded me how the sun felt on my face on those first warm days after a long cold winter when the first flowers were poking out.
Provence Memories, 12" x 12", mixed media on Panel