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I headed down to the Quebec boardwalk near dawn every morning for a week with this monster-size canvas and other painting parerphenalia. I faced the promenaders who often wanted to discuss art in French. Although I love the language, by lunchtime I would be mentally exhausted from trying to speak it understandably. I’d pack up the easel and other supplies and hoist the Chateau Frontenac on my back (my rendition, that is). If there was any wind, I considered using the painting as a sail; this personal albatross turned out to be worth the effort it took to paint it but I wasn’t so sure about that back then.
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