Villa Julia Felice, Pompeii - Part II

Everywhere, I sense grandeur. Roofs are missing and foundation bricks, cement and layers of sand are all that are left of walls. The marble has disappeared from most columns. Regardless, the fragile villas and gardens are stately, regal and picturesque, leaving me to imagine how people once lived there.

My focus moves from canvas to the albergo, as I drag brushes of paint onto my carefully composed painting of the wild, unmanicured lawn filled with yellowed weeds and parched grass. Aged yellow ochre brick walls and burnt sienna tiled-roof are framed from behind by majestic cypress trees in shades of terre verte di Verona and cobalt blue sky.

I lose a sense of time as I listen to the singing birds and buzzing bees. Rounded hedges cast their blue and violet moving shadows. Though I feel peaceful and silent, I sense the stirring spirits of the ancient Romans and their gods in the soft breeze. The experience is real but feels like a dream.

As my painting takes on a semblance of reality, I wonder about the proprietress Giulia Felice who lived there before Mt. Vesuvius erupted in 79 A.D. In my inner eye I picture her graciously gliding across the portico greeting her guests. She wears a flowing silk, lavender gown. Amethyst, gold earrings dangle from her earlobes. Her dark hair is draped by combs back from her pear-shaped face. She moves out into the lawn where jasmine cast spells in her wake.
How did she entertain her guests? Did they eat fish from her pond and drink sweet wine from her vineyard? Did her guests laugh at bawdy stories of gladiators as they lay on soft cushions covering the wide marble benches in the triclinium? Did they enjoy the cool evening lit with torches as they marveled at the full moon? Were they serenaded with soft calming lyre music after a full day in the scorching sun? Had they witnessed the latest gladiator games at the amphitheater nearby, just beyond the orchard?

Now visiting her domain as a painter from Indianapolis, I am her only visitor.