Lights and trees

In the last time my work it's based at first on trees and landscape, I try to reproduce the melancholy and romanticism of landscape that I loved and I love

Laura Tedeschi - Prima neve oil on canvas, Suisse 2012

Olive grove in the shadow

Last year on end of september and begin october i have had the great fortune to be again in my dream land Provence, here I find great inspiration as ever... the salty sea's smell mixed with pungent and acrid vegetation mediterranean's smell it's for me a explosive cocktail the biggest inspiration.

Laura Tedeschi, Oliveto in penombra - Oil on Canvas

Light hidden behind shadow

The light hidden itself behind shadow, escaping the rigors of reality.

The shadow tells us the consequences of a gesture, an action of a moment. The shadow exists to tell us the light. With it's distorted version of reality, defines lines of the action and communication of the light.

Oil on canvas by Laura Tedeschi - Light hidden behind shadow

Be free

I'm always trying to be free and to break away from the truth as much as possible, remaining at the same time in the concrete.

Oil on canvas by Laura Tedeschi - Still life with meat, cup and fork

Oil on canvas by Laura Tedeschi - Still life with meat, fruit and knife

Spring

Welcome may, friendly flag.

Welcome spring.

Evening's shadow, strong scents.

New spirit throws away the old one!

Spring - oil on board by Laura Tedeschi

Cuesmes, July 1880 Vincent Van Gogh wrote to Theo the famous thought of the bird in a cage

Paint by me, oil on canvas - Prisoner

"A caged bird in spring knows perfectly well that there is some way in which he should be able to serve. He is well aware that there is something to be done, but he is unable to do it. What is it? He cannot quite remember, but then he gets a vague inkling and he says to himself, “The others are building their nests and hatching their young and bringing them up,” and then he bangs his head against the bars of the cage. But the cage does not give way and the bird is maddened by pain. “What a idler,” says another bird passing by - what an idler. Yet the prisoner lives and does not die. There are no outward signs of what is going on inside him; he is doing well, he is quite cheerful in the sunshine.


But then the season of the great migration arrives, an attack of melancholy. He has everything he needs, say the children who tend him in his cage - but he looks out, at the heavy thundery sky, and in his heart of hearts he rebels against his fate. I am caged, I am caged and you say I need nothing, you idiots! I have everything I need, indeed! Oh! please give me the freedom to be a bird like other birds!


A kind of idler of a person resembles that kind of idler of a bird. And people are often unable to do anything, imprisoned as they are in I don't know what kind of terrible, terrible, oh such terrible cage.


I do know that there is a release, the belated release. A justly or unjustly ruined reputation, poverty, disastrous circumstances, misfortune, they all turn you into a prisoner. You cannot always tell what keeps you confined, what immures you, what seems to bury you, and yet you can feel those elusive bars, railings, walls. Is all this illusion, imagination? I don't think so. And then one asks: My God! will it be for long, will it be for ever, will it be for eternity?


Do you know what makes the prison disappear? Every deep, genuine affection. Being friends, being brothers, loving, that is what opens the prison, with supreme power, by some magic force. Without these one stays dead. But whenever affection is revived, there life revives. Moreover, the prison is sometimes called prejudice, misunderstanding, fatal ignorance of one thing or another, suspicion, false modesty".

At this time, Vincent was 27 year old

Vincent van Gogh. Letter to Theo van Gogh. Written July 1880 in Cuesmes.
Translated by Mrs. Johanna van Gogh-Bonger, edited by Robert Harrison

There are many situations that make us prisoners, illness, loneliness, society today, injustice, indifference, racism, misunderstanding, censorship and so on ...

This painting is dedicated to all those people who are made ​​captive to one of these things. This work is dedicated to us all with much love.

Paint by me, oil on canvas - Prisoner

Paint by me, oil on canvas - Prisoner

Paint by me, oil on canvas - Prisoner

Protecting myself

... a feeling of panic forced me to curl up, as to protect myself from the void.

Protecting myself - Oil on canvas by Laura Tedeschi

Reflection and reflections

Reflection, after I'm gone - Oil on board, Laura Tedeschi

The swindle for us dreamers is that we are always trying desperately that our dreams comes true. Then, when something comes true we just have to take the consciousness that in our dreams our reality is always different from the real reality and then we can only gain strength and start another dream, and then again clashing with the illusion and self confidence to make our dream come true to smashing our head and, once more time noticing that our dream can not ever coincide with reality.
Finally there will be no more the research of the "happen" and we will close ourself in a own world and we would be accused of being fucking shit, or different, closed, moody, twisted, antisocial, aggressive...

The window of a bathroom on a cold winter afternoon

The window of a bathroom on a cold winter afternoon - Oil on board, Laura Tedeschi

The window - One late summer afternoon in northern Germany

The window of a studio of a painter in northern Germany in a late summer afternoon

La finestra di un atelier di un pittore nel nord della Germania in un tardo pomeriggio d'estate

Laura Tedeschi - The window (Oil on board)

Outside world inside world...

Outside world inside world...

Just few words and a new oilpaint to define an immense sense of belonging and alienation.

The dormer - Laura Tedeschi, oil on board 

About trees

Laura Tedeschi - Oil painting

“For me, trees have always been the most penetrating preachers. I revere them when they live in tribes and families, in forests and groves. And even more I revere them when they stand alone. They are like lonely persons. Not like hermits who have stolen away out of some weakness, but like great, solitary men, like Beethoven and Nietzsche. In their highest boughs the world rustles, their roots rest in infinity; but they do not lose themselves there, they struggle with all the force of their lives for one thing only: to fulfil themselves according to their own laws, to build up their own form, to represent themselves. Nothing is holier, nothing is more exemplary than a beautiful, strong tree. When a tree is cut down and reveals its naked death-wound to the sun, one can read its whole history in the luminous, inscribed disk of its trunk: in the rings of its years, its scars, all the struggle, all the suffering, all the sickness, all the happiness and prosperity stand truly written, the narrow years and the luxurious years, the attacks withstood, the storms endured. And every young farmboy knows that the hardest and noblest wood has the narrowest rings, that high on the mountains and in continuing danger the most indestructible, the strongest, the ideal trees grow.”

Hermann Hesse - Wandering

About soul - Loving Expressionism

A sequence of visions of human soul: the doubt, hanging by a thread, on the border.

Paintings are by Laura Tedeschi

About loss

Loss by Laura Tedeschi

Panic by Laura Tedeschi

Speaking silence, everything else is boring

Laura Tedeschi - Oil on Canvas - Everything else is boring

 Laura Tedeschi - Oil on Canvas - About child

Laura Tedeschi - Oil on Canvas - About girl

Just thinking

Interrogative - Oil on canvas by Laura Tedeschi

No, it's not easy for anyone to tell something, there are those who studied for years and those who allow themselves to go on intuition, but the effort of telling, whether played on the keys of a piano, or wrote on a white paper, or break down on a block of clay or leaves the tubes of color, are needed determination and intuition. It takes strength, the strength of a knight who throws himself wildly galloping against the current. How tired I have got, how convoluted body and soul behind the empty white canvas, but in most cases to bring out only the shadow of an inspiration, but holy god I did not think so !!!!! Good will, together with mediocre results, is still worse, a glimpse of the potential is one orribile thing. It's as, if the teacher at school had said your mother: 'the boy engage himself, but he can not apply'.  All attempts at pretending to myself that I made something beautiful... it's always like this, the thrill is short .. already after a short time, my attempt appears to me very poor (so that I can see in this all my fear, I can see me as a teenager in the little town where I grew up, I can see me walking on the streets without ease, with my satchel in my hand, dreaming of being courageous and hoping to not meet anyone because my shyness prevented me from socializing like everyone else, I see myself as child running away from the villagers who might ask me questions). Well, why I'm always trying to express my self in this way? Well, maybe is the old habit of wasting time with people who, perhaps love us and tell them all, but you can not deny that this is very pathetic, with the hope that one day even the positions of this forms could be proud to show their uneasiness.

A ordinary day in "the place to have sun"

Laura Tedeschi, Oil on Canvas - Rivapiana, lungolago

Less thinking and more painting

Laura Tedeschi - View of Lake Maggiore

... at least be content, being happy is only for stupid people

Some news and new paintings

Hello everyone! ...I'm not very present on the blog lately, I know.I'm working on a book that will publish in the winter, besides that I'm always painting, I must confess to you that it is also a period in which I am very intimate with myself and I'm rediscovering a lot of good things that too long I had been missing... my life has led me to take important decisions in recent times
I Always take a look at your blogs when I connect to internet it's seem that you are always wonderful, writing, painting, photographing, creating... I'm often thinking that if the world there were no creative people all would be lost.What would the world be without music, literature, photography, painting??
See you all my friends

Paintings and photo by Laura Tedeschi

About eyes

All paintings are by Laura Tedeschi