Lemony-yellow goodness

And now for the second 'installation' of YELLOW that I promised in Thursday's post—lemon cupcakes! I wish I could offer one to each of you who enjoy such things. Since photographing a trio of beautiful lemons, leaves still intact, I have been wanting to create a lemon cupcake recipe. I came across a really good one a couple of years ago, but don't seem to have made a note of it anywhere—I am, however very happy with how light and lemon-y these came out. Inspired by those used at the local bakeries, I made 'liners' from squares of parchment paper, but a phone call I got while filling them resulted in a rather haphazard distribution of batter (which I happen to not mind). I love the effect of the parchment paper 'wings' cradling the cupcakes.

A note on the recipe: Using the zest of four lemons total (between the batter & the frosting) will add extra lemon-y goodness, but you will likely have leftover juice...perfect for lemonade, lemon curd, etc.

If only the scent of those blossoms from Florence's rose garden (shown in the first set of images above) could be transported through cyberspace. I must admit that there've been times when, guiltily, I have pinched a lemon blossom to bring home with me because I couldn't get enough of the fragrance.

Speaking of lemons/the rose garden, I thought I'd share a handful of photos of the limonaia, which, at least this past winter, was used to store orange trees rather than lemons. I have always thought the long, narrow structure, with a rear wall of sun-lit stone and its length of rose-bordered windows, would made a wonderful studio.

The limonaia in spring

The limonaia in autumn

The limonaia in winter

The limonaia also permanently houses two of artist Jean-Michel Folon's studies for sculptures whose full-sized versions are in sitù elsewhere. They are just two from the collection that Folon's wife donated to the city of Florence (at the artist's request) upon his death in 2005. The other nine full-scale pieces were installed throughout the grounds of the rose garden in the autumn of 2011, giving even more meaning to one of my favorite spots in Florence. (You may have noticed photos of some of these sculptures in my past entries about the rose garden.) I would love to share my research & writings about Folon, but am still trying to figure out the best way to give shape to all that the artist has inspired. Perhaps, little by little, it will emerge on my blog, though I hope to create something more 'formal'/tangible one day.

It seems fitting that some of Folon's work has come to be in Florence's rose garden; he felt a deep affinity with this city. In fact, the "exhibition of my lifetime" (as he called it) took place in multiple venues in Florence and its surroundings during the summer/early autumn of 2005, closing just weeks before he passed away on 20 October. In a video created especially for the exhibition, as he's shown looking around his studio prior to the exhibition, Folon comments that he will feel like an orphan in the absence of the 300+ works headed for Florence. I love how he then adds how delighted he is that the pieces will have the chance to "go on vacation to one of the most beautiful places on earth." I have to wonder if they made it back before his death, as the exhibition was extended into early October...

I am sure he would be thrilled to see his work engaged in an ongoing 'dialogue' with this city he loved so much.

Folon's studies for Pluie & Quelqu'un, accompanied by poster-sized photos showing the full-sized pieces in sitù.

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So, from lemons to lemon cupcakes to the limonaia & Folon. I try to stay focused, but it doesn't come naturally. (More thoughts on this and how it relates to being an artist another time...)

For now, I'll leave you with some drops of wisdom I have gleaned from Folon ~

If you don’t know quite where to begin, it can help to keep in mind that "life decides"—Folon believed that our job is to simply watch and to listen, then transmit what we witness.

If you feel overwhelmed by ideas, take comfort in knowing that, for every ten ideas, Folon was able to execute only one.

And if you fear you may never accomplish your goals, consider how Folon’s resolution to simply "create every day" multiplied into a vast collection of work.

Then there’s the cherished pearl of wisdom that Folon received during his memorable encounter with film director Federico Fellini: Give life to your childhood dreams. Folon clearly lived by those words.

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{P.S. More yellow to come in the next post.}