I am seeking a stillness I know I won’t find in New York and have high hopes that I will in the South of France.

Matisse sought the French Riviera as his painting grounds. And Monet, I am almost sure his impressionist painting style mimics how sunlight fall upon the Cote d’Azur. A granularity that calms our senses.

We cannot forget Van Gogh’s Starry Night… I wonder if he couldn’t help but maintain the bright sunlight of the South of France into the wee hours of the night and painted it accordingly.

Picasso, in the latter stage of his career, noted: “Whenever I come to Antibes, I’m always attacked by the itch of Antiquity. It is strange, in Paris I never draw fauns, centaurs, or mythical heroes … they always seem to live in these parts.”

It leaves me to wonder why so many painters flock and find refuge in the South of France. 

I’ve been to the area once. I was in Marseille and Nice. I relished in the light blue veil on my eyes and its occasional orange, and light pink. I was somehow transported into Matisse’s world, a dance of sorts between the brightest of all colors. 

The Calanques adds complexity to the French Riviera, edgy around the edges… It brought scale into my life. The water was clear as they come but so rocky…and yet again that bright calypso, piercing into my eyes.

Almost like an antidote to an icy depression, too often experienced in the early months of the year, the South of France in the midst of summer reminds me of the saying: “In the midst of winter, I found in me an invincible summer.”

What I am is flocking to the South of France, seeking a stillness and a warm sunlight conducive to the act of painting. An antidote to the overwhelming and cold New York, Provence seems exactly what I need to overcome my frozen hands.