The sermon on the mountain
I left my students at the bottom of Mont Sainte Victoire so they may start painting peacefully, following their heart and their eyes. I left them with their easels and their faith. After an hour, descending from the mountain, I saw that they were not able to overcome the overwhelming geological and cultural world inheritance.
And then I started crying out loud (like a hockey coach) to my Ozies “Do not paint Ayer’s Rock”; and to my Canucks; “why are you painting Mont Saint Hilaire, Bordua’s mountain? It is Cézanne’s mountain!” And to all: “please see! Believe! Do not paint Canadian nor Australian greens, but the greens just in front of you!” And this went on for the last 45 minutes… and I lost my voice… but the painting turned out to be excellent! Yes!