We are still in winter, this much I know despite the light beginning to whisper me otherwise. For I find myself still nombril-gazing, shuffling, wearing that strange perfume, a miasma of this year and that. So I go out searching, scratching the surfaces. Looking for the colors of the past that will stick to the soles of my shoes this spring and those which will fade with my tread as I keep on walking, quietly, for it is that time of year.
Oh my goodness! I am just catching up here on all your news — a new pup! So exciting! I'm sending my warmest welcome to handsome Kipling and a hug to big brother Ben. Thanks for sharing news of your new family member with us!
Please forgive my horrible typing… I am still in the office and getting emotional…really miss Provence 🙁
First let ma ask how id Kipling!
Second, let me thanks you again for the most wonderful illustration of the real, authentic Provence. the provence of my childhood with its peeling paint, the washed colors, the ochres and the red…i am getting so homesick as i look at your beautiful photos
These images are stunning. (One of the reasons I miss living in an older part of the US, and especially, miss France – is the lack of tangible history that remains.)
I am reminded of impasto, and how drawn I am to a painting's surface as part of its pleasure.
Poetic, Heather. Absolutely poetic.
Why does that not surprise me Lisa? 🙂
Penelope, I would say that this response made my week but in honesty it was Kipling's getting the all clear from our vet last night! But I can not thank you enough for your generosity of spirit and perspective. I feel so fortunate.
And of course, I could not agree with you more and am fascinated by the psychology of why things are in the state that they are here in France. Certain corners were worn away by carriage wheels and never repaired. Bits of Roman column (!!) are used on another corner to keep cars from running into a building on a narrow street. And as I was told before moving here: "Never, ever go by the facade of a building. Owners leave them looking as beat up as possible so as not to draw too much attention to thieves and passerby. Sometimes the most falling down looking hold a castle inside!"…It is wonderful, isn't it?
And our mutual appreciation of patina is what brought Brooke and I together! 🙂
Heehee. Sneaky one. Ah, they were with me Debra, trust me!
That made me smile hugely, Marissa. But as I just wrote to another blog friend, that is one of the things that is so amazing about being in contact with people thanks to blogs and the internet–it opens us up to finding people with really similar interests to our own that we would never have been into contact with otherwise. That is so completely wonderful and I never take it for granted–especially in this day and age when "every man for himself" seems to becoming the norm. You know? And while you have the world at your fingertips in my beloved NYC, I really can't say that there are so many people that I have met here in the region that I feel sympatico with in terms of tastes and interests. So why not look out to the world?
And we do have things in common, it is true! 🙂 Both Remi and I are completely and utterly fascinated by patina and the old crumbling stones–it is one of the biggest reasons why we moved here. Just to be wrapped up in history. But you are actually creating the effects of history, how amazing that must be. I would love to see some of your work! And what do you think about Penelope's comment below?
Bisous et merci,
H
Oooh. My. So close and yet so far…lucky, lucky you!!!
oh this is right up my ally so to speak, love anything aged, textured and touched by time!
ciao lisa