Category: Uncategorized

Nimes, Part Three

And finally, the last of the posts from Nimes. Did I take the time to research and double check my facts? Not at all! I do believe that I lost what was left of my sanity in one of the moving boxes and still haven’t retrieved it. So bare with me if this is another appeal to the eyes and not necessarily the mind. 
I do have in my memory that the hard to please Henry James made some sort of remark that the Maison Carrée, above, was the world’s most perfect building. Quite a change of pace from his descriptions of Arles, I can tell you. Thomas Jefferson was gaga about it too–enough so to design the Virginia state capital based on its appearance. Regardless, it is still heralded as one of the world’s best preserved temples from the time of the Roman Empire.

Opulence reigns in the Jardin de la Fontaine or the Garden of the Source where couples stroll with their dogs to escape the heat. It was here that remains of the Roman baths were uncovered in the 18th century and recreated, albeit with an entirely and utterly baroque aesthetic–flying fat cherubs are everywhere!

The Temple of Diana, which is thought to have perhaps been a library, is all that remains in the gardens from Roman times. Here, finally, a little well-earned dust and patina. Much more to my liking. The red scrawls, the broken stones, a lost worship.

Up and up the steps, nearly impossible after a rosé driven lunch but worth the effort for the incredible view from atop the Magne Tower, which was nearly gutted from the inside (we are talking several stories of rubble) by a wacky gardener that had been influenced by Nostradamus to believe that there was a treasure buried somewhere inside. Silly goose.

After a short nap on the pelouse, or lawn, we were ready to make the slow descent back to Marie’s apartment where we were rewarded for our efforts with what? More rosé, of course! Not to mention the remains of the day’s luncheon. We sleepily picked at the the last of the toasts ambivalent to the arrival of evening. It was with a heavy heart that we tread back to the car, having spent nearly twelve hours (!) in the fine company of our charming, Nimois friends. In the midst of so much change in my life recently, it is wonderful to know that there are some things that I can always count on.

Last day

 We are in the middle of our last few hours here. And I have the hiccups. Literally. Let’s hope all goes well tomorrow. As my friend Frederique wished us–“Merde”!

PS. I still have the hiccups and Remi is still packing at 11:22 pm and the movers arrive at 7!

Order! Order!

Isn’t it funny how our oh-so carefully constructed worlds can fall apart in a day? Luckily, I am just talking about an apartment and nothing worse but still couldn’t help but smirk over all of the times that I moved a statue two millimetres to the left or right while looking at this mess. Today was my first day doing boxes and I am proud to say that I did all that you see and then some. My oh, we do have things. Some, like Remi’s slides, are a living testament (literally, for if you don’t know, film is actually alive, I love that) to our world and how it is changing on several levels. As are we. Remi woke me at 7am yesterday so that we could take over our best paintings and such to the new apartment before the traffic restrictions in the  Centre Historique hit. How interesting that so many of our pieces don’t interest me in the slightest anymore. They were for another us, somewhere else.
I am on the fence with some of my books. It is a luxury to keep them, trophy-like, on a shelf. But I am not sure that someone as nomadic as myself has the right to hoard so many words. And the clothing, the highest heels of another life altogether? Well, I guess I am not entirely ready to let go of that alter-ego just yet. 
At one moment when my muscles were screaming so that I had to take a break over a glass of water in the kitchen, I spied a green dragonfly perched on the windowsill. Remi believes these crystalline creatures are the harbingers of good luck and so now I take it so. Surtout because at that moment, my random itunes was blaring the famous duet from Delibe’s Lakmé. Something so gorgeous in the midst of such chaos and yes, I’ll take all of the encouragement that I can these days. Frankly, I am just grateful to not be at the new apartment, where we have been painting/cleaning until 10pm every night this week.
My heart has been on a bit of a roller coaster. Do all Leos hate moving as much as I do or is it just because of the frequent changes of my childhood? As often as I have done this (I now consider myself to be a master packer), a part of me is deeply disconcerted. And yet it is just another address two streets over and not an entirely new life. How odd I am and how important it is to turn towards the new–how fortunate to even have the occasion. Of course, I know that. But for the moment, it is just the prospect of getting to decorate that is getting me through! I am deeply, profoundly tired but still looking forward to what could be. Hope swooping in, making a dramatic save once again.

Third purchase!

 
Ooh, a little gift from the powers that be. Extremely exhausted, Remi and I left the apartment to go and pick up our boxes for the move. And a good thing too, considering that it is next Monday. Afterwards, we stopped by Troc’ Soury, where I happened upon our first purchase for the new apartment. Hooray! Right there in front of me, voila, the light for the entry hall. And…at only 18€ a far cry less expensive than a very similar new version that I had planned to order from Morocco. Of course, with a new light, it would take decades to achieve the patina of this beauty. I am delighted and can’t wait to see it lit–but there are spider webs and the remains of a nest inside it! Something to look forward to for the new apartment. But now, it is time to start packing…

Limbo

I am so exhausted that I can’t sleep. The switch is stuck on some sort of “on”, one with faulty wiring as thoughts whirl incessantly even if I am too tired to do much about it. Moving day is fast, fast approaching.
Have I packed anything? Not at all. Is our new apartment ready? No, it isn’t. Moving is always like this. As many times as I have done it, there is always more than a pinch of drama involved. Not as much, of course, as the time that I moved in NYC by subway. Yes, that is right and oh, the pitying looks that I received. I had an old Army trunk and I remember how loudly it thunked across the station platform.
So now, as then, it will be one of those down to the wire pushes. Because, frankly, for the moment, we are having too much fun. A fantastic couple that we both adore came from Paris to see the highlights of the Rencontres International Photography Festival. So many shows, spread out throughout Arles. Last night was the “Night of the Year” (well, personally that would be the Oscars, but to each his own) and it doesn’t get more downtrodden glamour than that. Or at least that is how it seemed to me after entirely too much rosé.
The Arena had been divided into sections with running photography slideshows, accompanying music and for some reason, hundreds of smudgy candles, that while appealing, smelled appalling. How insanely decadent to wander the halls of the Arena with invitations of images in each corner. Bands of twenty-somethings swayed to the DJ’s spins on the sands where the bulls run. I loved it, until I had to go home. Immediately.

The lure of the Rencontres was evident the next day as we baked under the roofs of the former factories that repaired the trains on the Marseille line, known as the Ateliers SNCF. More about that another time, as this particularly down-trodden lieu holds the key to Arles’ future. Rusted iron beams, cracked walls make an oddly appropriate setting for the avant garde of the photography world. Apparently, it is a fitting enough for Frédéric Mitterand, France’s Minister of Culture, who toured the exhibits as we eyed his bodyguards. I love that France has a Minister of Culture and that his role is considered to be so important. Let’s hear it for a country that still believes in the power of its creativity.

The issues that I raised in my previous post were present in some of the pieces presented, such as one made of a collage of images that had been taken off of Flickr or the “Chicken Museum” with ridiculous photos from the internet and pecking chickens making a commentary on our society. We were left with much to think about and highly inspired. The Rencontres is running through the rest of the summer and is well worth the time and the effort. But speaking of efforts, now I really must go…my apologies in advance if I post less in the upcoming week! 

Protected by CleanTalk Anti-Spam