Annalia S.'s photos with the keyword: piazza Savonarola

I was about 5 years old when my art teacher father got me my first serious painting kit. He wanted to get me oil based paints, but my mother put her foot down, so we went for more washable tempera paints. The art supply store, with its profusion of colors, its smells and mind boggling variety of brushes, spatulas, easels and palettes, was like a rutilant wonderland to me, better than any stores, even better than the toy store! What part of this phantasmagoria would be mine to take home, I wondered, excitedly. My dad took a long time selecting brushes, checking what hairs they were made of and picking different shapes and sizes. He explained his choices to me, but all I remember now is the wonder of the different textures: boar hairs were coarse and rigid, others as smooth as silk, and others even more incredibly light and almost feathery and would tickle the palm of your hand if you ran them across it. The paint tubes themselves, however, did not take long: a large tube of white, an equally large tube of black and four smaller tubes: yellow, blue and two kinds of red. Considering the endless variety of colors offered by the store, some of them - flowery pinks, aqua greens, light and dark turquoises - just irresistible to a young girl, this was a bit disappointing. “What about the other colors, Dad?” I asked. He smiled and said “You’ll see”. As we headed home he elaborated a bit on that rather unsatisfying answer: “You can make any color you saw in the store from the ones we got”. That sounded more hopeful, but I still couldn’t see how red, blue or yellow could be turned to aqua green or turquoise, or shocking pink. It sounded like some magic trick would be required. At 5 years of age, kids tend to believe their parents are all powerful. But still, magic tricks didn’t seem like his cup of tea. And yet, magic it was, of course. A wonderful magic that makes yellow and blue turn into a whole palette of greens depending on how much of each gets mixed in. And red and yellow into orange, blue and red into purple, but … wait! Red was a bit different; to get the right results, red had to come in two different versions: scarlet and vermillion. You needed scarlet red to make purple and vermillion red to make a proper orange. Switch them around and the magic would not work right. Vermillion red and blue made brown, not purple. And scarlet and yellow made a sort of salmon pink instead of orange. I understood the principle and could see some difference in those two colors, but still, red is red, isn’t it? Vermillion just seemed a little lighter and perhaps more brilliant than scarlet, but still it was just red to me. I did not really “get” vermillion, not until - that is - I saw my first pomegranate tree, or rather, the absolutely flamboyant flowers of the pomegranate tree. If you have ever seen them in real life, I think you’ll agree that “red” just does not do justice to them, doesn’t even begin to describe their happy, sunny, light-filled color that stands out so strikingly against the brilliant green of the leaves. The main photo and PIPs are all from two beautiful pomegranate trees in Piazza Savonarola's little city park which, this time of year, are in full bloom. I swear I must have spent nearly an hour there, shooting this way and that, into the trees and under the trees, sticking my camera through the branches to get close to the busy bees that were visiting their beautiful vermillion flowers. I hope you enjoy … well, I can’t say the fruit of my labour. It’s not really labour when you are having that much fun, is it? :) This is especially dedicated to Andy and Maurice (HappySnapper) who are going through tough times. Errata corrige: Upon rereading I realize I used the wrong red for the one that gives purple if mixed with blue: it's carmine, not scarlet! Sorry. Should re-read my stuff before I publish! :))