“Produits du paysans!!” I point and yell with the glee of a willful child that has just won the final round of “I spy” during an exceedingly long car trip. After catching his startled breath, Remi swings the Range Rover over to the side of the road. We are in need of supplies, red wine namely and where better to procure them than a shop offering “Peasant products” (oh all right, that is the literal translation but I couldn’t resist). Remi dives under the yellow awning, a tiny bell rings as he opens the door and I step out to stretch. We are in Lodève, unexplored territory, on our way to rent a safari tent in the Haut Languedoc region. The dogs are panting in the back so I pop the hatch to give them some fresh air and ruffle the fur on top of their Golden heads.
Proper scratchies take time and so I let my gaze wander while my fingers do the work. As luck would have it, we have pulled up in front of an impressive and mysterious building. Closed, abandoned? No. There is a bright green metal mailbox tacked to the side of giant wooden entry doors like a sparrow on a rhino’s back. The something something Archeological Society. Hm.
I tilt my head up and up to take in a stone portico, sober and sobering. This must have been a church before and for quite some time by the looks of…what?…the details. As if stepping in to a darkened room, my eyes adjust and I see them. The oddly placed numbers carved into the planks, a connect the dot code of a lost language. It is no less secretive than a barely legible chalk scrawl…”il faut a les…” no, I can’t make it out. What is it that we “had to do” here? Something before entering? A warning not to enter?
I pull myself a part from the dogs to run my fingers in and out of the swiss cheese holes of what once must have been smooth stone. How very long it must have taken for that to happen. How very long for the paint to chip and then be painted over and chip again. Rust has oxidized around the locks but not enough to close them off. They are still open and waiting. As I touch them, I can hear the jangle of time’s keys approaching and soon.
The tinkle of the bell pulls me out of my reverie and I see Remi laughing over his shoulder as he says his merci‘s and aurevoir‘s, a characteristic I love about him, always with a kind word. We pull away but before the adventure continues, I take one last look at the nameless, faceless building, one that becomes more so by the minute with distance until it resembles a blank slate of nothing. And yet I know it’s tiny secrets and feel quietly reassured by having read through their layers like Braille. “On and on and on, we keep going,” they whisper. I listened. I nod. I know.
Today’s post is for the September issue of the By Invitation Only International blog party.
This month’s theme is “patina,” a subject close to my heart. While I have the good fortune to live amongst spectacular scars and beauty marks that portray two thousand years of history in Arles, I thought that this doorway of a forgotten church in a forgotten town conveyed the essence of what patina means to me as well.
To discover the other fine entries–and I am sure that there will be wonderful takes on such a gorgeous subject–by all means…Please click here.
I am especially excited that the incredibly talented and lovely Penelope Bianchi is joining the group, now in it’s third year. To see her contribution…Please click here.
Thank you Mona and you as well! We are spoiled with patina everywhere here in this part of France…
Mmmmmmmm, Heather?……
This "Essay" demonstrates exactly what I've meant when I've said that you already have at least two good books in you, particularly if they were structured in the informal, "personal essay"-coupled-wit-photo-essay that characterizes vicki Archer's deservedly popular books.
I hope you don't need me to say that creating a sense of personalized spontaeity isn't so easy as most folks would assume. You'll have to ask Vicki for advice concerning that matter; she's a master at it…..perhaps simply by being sincere.
And you don't even have to hire a photographer….you've two in the house already.
I think you should ask your readers (they're a devoted lot, as you'll have noticed) which of your postings were the most memorable over the past two or so years.
That's how you'll get your book started. You've already got one good writer, two photographers, and about 500 supportive pre-editors.
Just suggesting…no need to reply….but it'd be good to hear that you've started compiling something. Avoid thinking of it as "THE Book"….just think of it as "The Best of 'Lost in Arles' Scrapbook"….perhaps somethig you were going to give to close friends and family members as a Christmas gift? I'm not kidding.
Muriel Spark (no slouch as a novelist and certainly no stranger to writer's block) once gave, to an aspiring but stymied young author, the sound advice (and I'm paraphrasing) "Simply sit down and pretend that you are writing a letter to a very dear friend, one who knows you well, likes you already, and cares about you. Don't think of anything but that, and you'll find that your book will write itself."
She also added that an aspiring writer should always get a cat, since it will curl up on your desk next to your typewriter and keep you company."
The cat might pose a problem in your household, but I would take the rest of her advice,if I were you.
Thaks for the fine posting,
David Terry
http://www.davidterryart.com
You are welcome, Victoria! Isn't that Mozart gorgeous? Something in how the cello "talks" with the other strings in the first movement made me think it might be appropriate for a discussion on patina!
I think that perhaps one of the reasons why your design firm has been such a huge success is that you inject the essence of something well-loved and inject it into a new creation. I don't know how you do it. It is a kind of magic! But your appreciation and true understanding of patina must come into play.
I am still thinking about your definition, including how people have also marked us with their love and friendship.
Thanks N! So glad you liked!
It is. But of course you are right (as per usual ;), I didn't publish the other photo of those stones–covered in creepy cobwebs!!!
And hehe, yes, I was did a little sigh of relief when the theme was named. I could practically my blog "patina" but then that would be stealing from my friend Brooke Giannetti's wonderful book, "Patina Style"! And I am no thief…
Gros Bisous,
H
I can't Jackie and I really am so proud to be a part of such an amazing group of ladies as yourself!
Fabulous patina. Old buildings do have a presence, a life, and we can know it if , like you, we stop and notice.
Gorgeous. This is what I love about living in Europe. xo Jenny
I've heard a lot about patina in the context of furniture, old doors etc. I thought about
what/who else can have it and the answer came when I looked into the mirror. We…the people…in our face and body as well as in our soul. And sometimes it can be so wonderful