While I was visiting my family in the States, I would occasionally think about Provence and my life in France in order to try and regard it with the blessing of remove. I was surprised by how much I longed for the region itself, for the land and its life. Certainly, it has taken root in my heart and not necessarily due to its more obvious charms, of which there are many. No, just as I used to visit certain paintings in the museums of Manhattan so often that I began to consider them as friends (including several Van Goghs whose landscapes would later become a part of my daily life in Arles), so too certain characteristics here have wooed my attention and become dear to me.
Chief amongst those is patina, the glow of time’s way. I missed it’s imperfections dearly while in Michigan and wondered if its presence gives one a certain permission not to be brighter, faster and stronger but just to be. There is such psychology in our surroundings. I am fairly certain that I have written this before but patina is forgiving. And I love it for that as well as the sheer beauty present within “I endure.”
I know that quite a few of you are impatient to see our new home but she is not yet ready for her close-up. There is a point during every move (and I have been through so many – eight in Manhattan alone, including one that I accomplished solely via subway) when things get much worse just before they get better and we are right in the thick of it. Remi is downstairs sanding the parquet floors and I will have to tackle the boxes in the dressing room as neither of us have anything clean to wear. Each morning I still wake up bone tired, my head in a fog. But oh, how it is worth it. In the quiet of the evenings, I light the candles and we both listen, trying to decipher what the house is telling us to do.
So for now, I hope that you will be contented with two posts featuring some of the details of our new village. I took these photos quite some time ago – long before we had found our house – and have been saving them for our arrival as something of a promise to myself.
And now we are here. Painting and creating traces that will one day become patina of its own.
Glad to hear about your move Heather, how I love to move !! Yes you are in dust and boxes right now, but you will get there and be happy you made the effort … but I don't need to tell you that 🙂
bon courage, we all look forward to your big reveal
Sharon
xx
Sister! Thank you for saying all those nice things! I would add, "if you spot it, you got it"! Which, as I can attest, you most certainly do! (talented, smart, generous, caring, beautiful, funny – should I go on?). : )
Heather, I was so happy when I read this because just recently I thought that beauty, art and creativity can be a friend too. Of course not in the sense of replacing a physical human being close to you but in the sense of a companion something that always accompanies you and grows by your work and affection.
And it seems as you describe the renovation of her (la maison) that it is exactly this what is taking place right now. (:
That patina is forgiving is one of my favorites of this post!
You know, I just came out of hospital from a surgery that turned out to be more than expected…Need to go back to bed now…
Take your time to give her "la maison" love and enjoy being lost in your secret provence! (:
Oh, there is no disrespect to Michigan – I love it there and we had the most perfect weather while I was there. Everyone said that they deserved it after the winter they had! But you know as well as I what it is to enjoy and be torn between two places…
What a gorgeous way to put it Lorrie and a good reminder during what often is hard work. Merci.