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| Acrylic on 16 x 12 Stretched Canvas |
There is no market day in my area, as far as I know. Of course, it could be so well-hidden that I've yet to discover it, but I think someone would have mentioned it. In Britain - in fact all of Europe - whole town squares become markets with dozens of stalls, and I've bought some incredible collectibles from such places. Canada has its share, and I'm guessing the States does, too. Being in the Antipodes, which entails doing a lot of things which are opposite to the rest of the world, Sydney has permanent markets, in dim, vaguely stale, buildings, where you can buy just about anything, but which lack the spontaneity of the outdoor versions, and certainly the fresh air. Paddington has an outdoor one, but it's too far for me to travel. No doubt, out of town, there are some great country markets, but I haven't found one yet.
This painting represents my memory of good city markets. I miss them.
Don't even ask how long this one took me to paint. I couldn't stop.
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