I made a promise to keep moving forward, to keep a focus on beauty and good. So while my heart is most certainly reeling from the horrible explosions in Boston and now Texas, I will clutch on to that promise like a rope of peace. I know that so many of you are struggling to do the same, each in your own way.
My first instinct was to share a little light and there is nothing petite about la lumière de Marseille. “Why is it so bright?” I asked Remi as we walked along the Quai de la Joliette. “The sea acts like a giant reflector,” he responded. “It bounces the sun up and out.” And while it was nearly blinding, it was ultimately illuminating, pulling apart the contrasts with gentle fingers. I wanted to capture it all, like a child jumping at melting snowflakes. But we were late, so late to see the amazing Koudelka exhibition at La Vieille Charité that there was not a moment to lose. So I literally took most of these photos while walking, nary a pause.
Afterwards, we made a long loop back to where we were parked and still I was snapping practically non-stop. “Do you really find that interesting?” Remi asked, not unkindly, at one point while I was photographing a stop light backed against blue office windows. Yes, I did. I do.
Bright light shine and show the way, propel us forward, just like the light of Marseille, out of our collective darkness.
I just want to add one thing that surprised me in the responses to my previous post. It is funny, this internet world. Our personalities shine through our words and reactions distinctly even with the distance. I think that you all know how grateful I am that so many of you are loyal visitors and commenters. I light up each time I see what I could call “your familiar faces.”
And so I was amazed, truly, to discover that so very many of you are from Boston. So many, it is incredible. And I just want to say that each and every one of you, while different in many ways, have one quality that unites you: a big heart, a generous spirit. Each and every one. That says so much doesn’t it? It gives me hope for Boston and beyond.
Oh dear, David. I am so sorry to hear this. Am sending you an email–after I listen to Peter's work.
Bisous,
H
Hey Heather,
I'm so glad you liked the Millay poem (it's one of my favorites by her, and I thought it would appeal to you just now). Odd to consider that Millay never thought it worth publishing; it first appeared in the "collected poems" edited/selected by her sister, Norma, after Millay's death.
As for me?….nothing but trouble, trouble, and a large dose of difficult-duty lately. I spent a month up in Virginia, doing what I could to help a longtime, very dear friend do what she's requested…..to die at home with her dogs. Ironically enough, she's not actualy dead yet (having cheated death about six times in the past year alone), but the time came for me to return to North Carolina.
Now?…I'm staying in Durham for a unspecified period at another sick friend's house (knee replacement). As I did in Virginia, I walk dogs, shop, do all the cooking, usher in various visiting-nurses, manage the folks who drop by, and generally function as the live-in help.
It's not been at all bad to stay so busy when the news from the "outside" world has been so relentlessly disheartening.
Weirdly enough? I have been back in Hillsborough twice (and, thus, seen Herve only twice/briefly since 18 March). On 30 March, I went back home to go to a big, lovely, predictably writer-populated party at Ed and Frances "Under the Tuscan Sun" Mayes's beautiful old house, "Chatwood"….about 3 miles from our house. Two weeks ago, I went back to prepare & hold a reception at The Webb House (I've joined the dubious ranks of folks who seem to invariably live in old houses with NAMES) for 100 or so folks following a concert by Peter Ostroushko ("Prairie Home Companion"s musical director, among his many other accomplishments).
That night was wonderful….folks going in and out (the back wings of the house enclose a large courtyard, with french doors on all sides….talk about "flow")….but I had to leave 24 hours later, once I'd cleaned up.
Two days after I left, a mini tornado came through town and tore down the 250 year old, GARGANTUAN pecan tree in the front yard (it was one of the two largest in the state). An obviously shocked Herve came here this past Sunday, bearing photographs of the destruction this caused. Fortunately, the monster-tree fell AWAY from the house….our 1790-1800 house, at least. I that respect, we're the fortunate ones on our street.
So, yes…..I've been busy, to say the least.
You'll like this lovely piece by Peter. Go to:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YgJn2F6lMcM
Level Best as Ever, and say hey to Remi for me,
David Terry
http://www.davidterryart.com
Marseille looks truly beautiful through your lens 🙂
Crepes!?! Are you absolutely SURE that you aren't a Frenchman in disguise? Heck, even Remi doesn't make crepes…
It's been a truly awful Spring here, weather wise. It snowed here overnight after flooding all week. On the other hand I am making crepes this morning so there is hope.
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The light… isn't that why we love Provence so, Heather?
A tonic, a remedy, a balm, an inspiration… and so much more… light is everything… not only to the photographer… 🙂
Have a wonderful weekend.. xv
I love these pictures and I love Remi's question. Do you find that interesting? I get that a lot too. Not unkind, no, more a sort of baffled curiosity. And then I bet he sees your pictures, and he nods and says "Ah, yes." Ah yes. Yes.
XXX
G