A parfait of information is beginning in my head. Leftovers are filling a long tall glass- Windang, the boatshed, jetties and the lake. Moving house has accidentally brought those leftovers to the surface and as so often happens, a new layer has formed. I had loved the operas of Puccini but until a recent program didn’t know about Torre del Lago where Puccini wrote.
My parfait now has a layer of music so needed for me to paint to. I can listen to the reeds in Madame Butterfly and paint my own Laga.