My friend Anthony kindly placates me in calling it “your room” – well, at least he does when I am present – for he knows it is my favorite in the house.
A quick left at the top of the first floor landing and the space opens up like a dove being set free from a cage…out towards the elongated windows whose shadows ripple with the bumps of the original glass… through the French doors and on to a wrought iron balcony overlooking the garden, one where I can picture myself balancing a tea cup on the railing while my other hand clasps a long silk kimono, chin aloft.
If this room were indeed mine, I would line the walls with bookcases filled with every kind of book imaginable and pile up faded Persian rugs on the floors. I wouldn’t need much more in the way of furniture than what is already there, save for a matelas for the Empire day bed, a hidden stereo and maybe a tinkling Louis XV chandelier just because the light would be – so – very – pretty.
Without falling into the tattered traps of Miss Havisham, I could be quite content in such a space and might never need to leave.
But for Anthony, this will not be his “only” room for they found that it connects directly to a smaller bedroom through a door that had been sealed off for quite some time. Wisely, the former occupants left the key for the lock on a peg for future use. Isn’t that something? Of course, these days we would have tossed it into a drawer somewhere only for it to be lost for forever. I suppose, when you live in such a house, you tend to think on the long-term.
This little corner of the house also has its certain charms. It wasn’t until I leaned in close to the remains of the geometric wallpaper that I realized that it was Cubist inspired and had been of a very fine make. Now, little is left and the wild stripes of the ancient glue have zebraed the walls in somewhat of a mix between Kelly Wearstler and Keith Haring. For now. Something tells me that this patina might not stay and the sad sink centralized between the windows might come down – even while I can imagine someone long ago quietly washing their hands in it while gazing out at the sky.
Today is an imagination day. Or a day to “fill the well” as Julia Cameron instructed in “The Artist’s Way.” So Remi got out one of his many photography books and I read an article on the life of Ellsworth Kelly; interestingly there was enough overlap in the subject matter so that we were able to have a nice exchange. But I have also been listening to the various birdsong that vibrates through this tiny village and delighted in a lone violet that had been forgotten on the walking path.
Are you taking time for yourself this week? The year is winding down.
Thank you for all of your interest in Anthony and his partners amazing renovation project.
If you missed the initial post, you can find it: here.
With my Best from Provence,
Heather
agree.
Stunning photography, dear Heather. Yes, we are winding down this week; glad you are, too.
Kx
In the true "flavor" of that remarkable space .. how about these two guys to honor the ancient and herald the future .. Oh Yeah !!! Pardonnez-moi Mesdames et Messieurs, que je roule sur les tapis persans!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uT3SBzmDxGk
Always a pleasure to enter your world, Heather, thank you for the gifts you've shared in 2015!
Mahalo et Merci,
Bill
http://www.kauai-to-paris.com
I agree with NAOMI…………contact that MAGAZINE RIGHT AWAY……….and see if you can sell them the before and after shots!!!THIS NEEDS TO BE FOLLOWED.
I am sitting on the edge of my seat!
XO
Beautiful description of a beautiful space
I'd line the floor along the walls with single mattresses, hang gauzy natural linen for the windows, paint the ceiling palest blue and the walls aubergine, hang a real bouquet of branches over the restored to working fireplace, and in the center of the room a low thick glass table nested on a natural gnarled wood base. After its all finished, I'd open the French doors to the balcony, prop a big fluffy woven pictorial pillow against a wall, and day dream myself into a nap.
This week I am devoting to dreaming.
Wishing You & Yours the Best of the New Years with Dreams Come True
Happy new year Heather. I am longing to wind down and just stop to reflect but up to now it;s been hectic. That room is the stuff that dreams are made of. I cannot wait to see how it all turns out.
This is beautifully put, Kerry. And friends, if you were as intrigued as I was by the idea of her "cruelty free taxidermy" please stop by her super charming shop:
http://www.farmlass.etsy.com
Shadows should make us stop and breathe in the essence of a room…indeed you have just done this…lovely. I feel the light of Provence so well!
Thank you Naomi, that is a massive compliment!
This is world of interiors stuff!