Images of Venice stir my soul. There is something so seductive about that place. It may be the mystery that lurks in the shadows of my mind. It may be my romantic heart that pounds with desire. It may be that this was the place that women explored their intellent only if they were a courtesan or a nun. Such drastic divisions…either a sinner, or a savior or souls were allowed books.
The first time I saw a painting by Mark Pettit I had to have one. His painting almost come to life right in front of your eyes. There is a dream like quality about them, one could almost step inside the painting and join. I have only two of his paintings. The one below caught my eye, and I had to grab it fast. His shows sell out very quickly, so a decisive mind is a must. One does not have the luxury of waiting a day to decide. I did that once with his painting, and the painting was gone the next day.
Upon gazing at the painting the viewer becomes immersed in the bouncing waves. Smelling the flowers, and hearing the sounds of the cloth of the blind billowing in the wind. The sound of the waves continually lapping the building, and the sound of the gondolas hitting on another in a rhythm that one does not forget.