Do you like flowers and their smell? Then your next vacation should be in France, my favorite country. Flowers are part of life everywhere, in cities, you probably won’t find houses that are not decorated with rose bushes and clematis that make a hedge.
Strasbourg said ‘hold my wine’ and posed for a painting.
And between the cities, endless blooming fields stretch, which not only delight the eye, but also generate income, since flowers are used in the production of essential oils.
Impressionist painting of orchid, the delicate and exotic at the same time.
An orchid walks into a gallery. Everyone stares. It’s used to it.
An integral part of the French cultural heritage, these gardens are open to the public throughout the country. All year round, they are ready to share their secrets, especially during moments of exceptional events.
Watercolour painting of unopened bud an orchid
Flowers being modest. Rare, honestly.
If you like castles in France, you will find lots of gardens and parks. One of my favorite is Château de Vaux-le-Vicomte, a small private palace of the 17th century, located not far from Paris. Popular for its sophisticated architecture and large surrounding park.
Cherry blossoms: beautiful for 10 days, smug about it forever.
The gardens and parks were in perfect harmony with the architectural complexes from which they were laid out. Spacious alleys were lined with flower beds.
Castle: Château de Vaux-le-Vicomte
…and of course irises. Did you know that the depiction of a lily on heraldry in pre-revolutionary France is actually a stylised image of a yellow iris?
The iris — France’s national flower and certified drama queen.
For France, irises are not only beautiful flowers that are a symbol, they are also an industry. France is famous throughout the world for its perfumes and eau de parfum, and it is in them that iris essential oil is actively used to create aromatic compositions.
Bon voyage! Until the next travel.
All paintings belong to the author. No image is to be copied without permission.
Tools used for my painting. Watercolor brands Van Gogh and Cotman. Paper Canson Mix Media album 28×35 cm (11×14 in.) and Canson Watercolour album 25×35 cm (11 x 15 in.)
Summer is here! Are you one of those people who gets bizarrely excited about local markets while traveling? Because I am definitely guilty. My favorite one in Rome is practically next door to the Vatican (meaning I can repent immediately after overspending on berries). It’s called Mercato Trionfale, and yes, the address is coming up—patience, my friend!
Our family camped out in a Vatican-adjacent hotel, and we visited Mercato Trionfale so often the vendors probably thought we were casing the joint. But no—we were just on a top-secret berry reconnaissance mission. Berry shopping was our favorite activity. Yes, that’s how wild we live.
For this post, I hunted down the brightest, most absurdly colorful paintings from the market—because apparently I’m obsessed with painting fruit. And not just any fruit, mind you. Only Italian berries would do. My standards are ridiculous, I know.
(And yes, watermelon technically counts as a berry—yes, really. The internet didn’t lie to you this time.)
A watermelon is technically a berry. Botany is a liar and I love it.
Now, cherries. I absolutely adore Italian cherries, especially because they somehow trigger my most sentimental memories. Apparently, my brain associates their aroma with my parents’ summer house—you know, that magical place where there was always a bowl of bright, juicy cherries on the table, sometimes sweet, sometimes shockingly sour (the betrayal!). The smell of cherries instantly transports me to endless summer evenings at the cottage, all leisurely and carefree. Cherries basically smell like bottled joy and femininity and everything summer is supposed to be. Romantic, right? (I’ll wait while you roll your eyes.)
Sweet. Sour. Zero warning. Cherries are the trust-fall of fruit.
My daughter texted me this photo of their breakfast in Positano, Italy—perched dramatically above the Mediterranean Sea with berries, fruit, and orange juice spread out like they were posing for Vogue. Naturally, I was instantly jealous. So, I did what any reasonable artist does: I added myself to the scene by painting in my sketchbook and favorite Staedtler pencil. Problem solved! Now it’s basically like I was there (in my imagination, which is just as good, right?). Fingers crossed my dream trip actually happens someday!
My daughter’s breakfast view. I painted myself into it.
And then there are grapes. Fun fact #1: they’re also berries. Fun fact #2: apparently they’ve been lounging around Earth for 65 million years. Now, here’s where it gets delightfully ridiculous. According to a (probably made-up) ancient legend, grapes showed up eons ago as the children of Earth and Sun. Back then, they didn’t take months to ripen like spoiled celebrities—nope, they went from morning to sunset in one day, like productivity on steroids. The ones that ripened by dawn got the rosy blush from the morning sky and turned pink. The afternoon bunch hoarded the sun’s gold rays and went golden yellow. And the latecomers? They borrowed the Southern night’s dark, velvety blue tones and went deep purple. Essentially, grapes are just showing off their gradient wardrobe collection.
Grapes: 65 million years old, still unbothered, still gorgeous.
And that, my friends, is why grapes come in so many fabulous colors. Voilà! Nature’s color palette at its most extra.
Bon voyage! Until the next travel misadventure! (And stay healthy—berries help with that.)
All paintings belong to the author. No image is to be copied without permission. (Yes, I’m watching. I have eyes.)
Nerdy tools section: All these beauties were painted with Watercolour brands Van Gogh and Cotman. Paper: Canson Mix Media album 28×35 cm (11×14 in.) and Canson Watercolour album 25×35 cm (11×15 in.). Yes, I’m that person with the fancy supplies. Don’t judge.
Mercato Trionfale address (for your pilgrimage): Via la Goletta, 1, Rome. GPS coordinates recommended to avoid wandering around like a lost tourist. (Though we all know you’re going to wander anyway—that’s half the fun.)
#lemon #art #travel #Italy (aka my holy trinity of happiness)
Yellow, sour, fragrant… and absolutely the diva of the citrus world. In tea with sugar? *Chef’s kiss.* It’s pleasant. Also full of vitamins (or so I tell myself between paintings). And its name is LEMON! Perhaps each of us, both adults and children, knows this bright, yellow citrus fruit—unless you’ve been living under a Mediterranean rock your whole life.
Still life. Still delicious. Still not edible.
It was in Italy (the land of carbs, art, and lemons galore) where my family dragged me around the Italian “boot” from top to toe several years ago. Because nothing says “family vacation” like touring every inch of a country! The painting happened in the south of Italy, in one of those charming little towns where time moves slower and espresso is cheaper than water. Naturally.
Rome wasn’t built in a day, but this lemon was painted in one. (Lies. It took three.)
Our next stop was the north of Italy, literally the “top of the boot” (geography humor—I’m here all week). Lemon trees were EVERYWHERE on the Borromean islands, like someone’s obsessed Pinterest board came to life. The backdrop? Mountains. Swiss mountains. Beautiful, indifferent, Swiss mountains that made the lemons look even more golden and smug.
Lemon trees: nature’s way of saying ‘you’re in Italy now, calm down.’
The lemons were HUGE. Like, absurdly huge. And their aroma? Everywhere. It was less “fresh citrus scent” and more “olfactory assault in the best way possible.” I still remember the weight of those yellow orbs in my hand—fruit so heavy it could double as a gym weight. Nature’s dumbbell.
Shall we have tea with lemon now? Or should we just sit and contemplate the sheer absurdity of how a little yellow fruit has consumed my entire artistic existence?
Tea. Lemon. Existential peace. You know the vibe.
According to legend (and I’m not making this up, mythology nerds), the aromatic fruits the color of the sun were gifted to Hera’s wedding when she married Zeus. Because if Zeus’s new wife wanted to stay young and beautiful forever, obviously you give her lemons. Logic. The ancient Greeks apparently believed: “Its aroma amuses the mind, the peel and grains are good for the heart, the flesh is excellent food, and the juice quenches thirst.” Basically, lemons are fruit’s overachiever. They’re doing cardio, aesthetics therapy, AND hydration all at once.
All paintings belong to the author. Seriously, don’t copy them. I’m watching. (Jk, but also—don’t.)
Tools used for my paintings: Watercolour brands Van Gogh and Cotman (because why choose when you can be indecisive?). Derwent watercolour pencils for when I need surgical precision on my lemon chaos. Paper from Canson Mix Media albums (28×35 cm / 11×14 in.) and Canson Watercolour albums (25×35 cm / 11×15 in.)—basically, I invested in better paper than I invest in my actual life stability.
Bon voyage! Until the next travel adventure (hopefully with fewer lemons and more personal growth, but let’s be realistic). Stay healthy, stay hydrated, and may your tea always have the perfect squeeze of lemon.
Art and travel club 