Category: Uncategorized

While this is not an “almost” it is a house that I have thought of since having seen it during one of our trips to the safari tent. How she is begging to be loved and how rightfully she deserves such attentions.

While I was walking through the forest above L’Isle sur la Sorgue, I couldn’t stop seeing lines. There were forms in the trees and the underbrush and they seemed to be pointing me in several directions all at once. I was thinking about friendship.

I have written before that it can be lonely at times living overseas – “can” being the operative word here  and “challenging” being a far more satisfying word then maudlin “lonely.” But there are moments,  increasingly with age, where I just want to be understood. A line drawn with a strong hand that doesn’t need to be interpreted.

Now don’t get me wrong. I knew what, or who, to be more precise, I was signing up for when I came on board for this adventure and it has been a marvelous one. Plus, I am giddy to announce that I will be heading back to the States at the end of the month for a long-overdue visit. My Mom has promised me that I will be “spoiled” and by that she is not referring to goods, although there will be that too. She understands.

Our virtual world can be so incredibly giving, glowing in generosity. So many voices that reach out tendril like towards mine and mine back to them. Sinewy yet delicate. I am quite honored to have been chosen by my friend Jeanne at Collage of Life to participate in a writerly blog tour for example, more of that next Monday. The world is our oyster and a love for similar beauties are often the uniting cord.

But I have learned that there are no commitments in virtual friendships either. People disappear, connections end. At times, even the most hardy of us need a mirror to reflect back our image but if that mirror is virtual, what do we do?

 It must be then that the lines that I cross are one’s that I draw in the dirt myself, my own boundaries that move about with the fluidity of the light darting through the trees. Just as the sticks and stones of our daily life are ours to drop and snap in two. Especially those that we use against ourselves.

I feel imminently grateful to be a part of a world-wide community. I look in amazement at the Visitor Tracker on the sidebar and see “South Africa” “Tokyo” and “Ohio” flip up one after the next. But as I followed those lines in the forest…and kept coming up against the same patterns…

The air is hot and is shaking my hand, pumping it like a madman. And yet I hesitate before taking shelter, sweetened by the prospect of a wide-open view.

How I do love having a museum to myself. So when Remi asked me if I could be his assistant for a technically challenging photo shoot at the Musée départemental Arles Antique on Tuesday, I immediately said yes. It wasn’t the first time. I had already spent seven hours there – at night! – while Remi was shooting his story on the Roman Boat for National Geographic Magazine. But this was even more to my liking as he would be focusing on one of my favorites of the art world…Roman mosaics. 

I remember having been fascinated by the wonderful collection at the Brooklyn Museum as a young woman. How could these ancient tiles still hold such color and wonder? How could each tiny piece be put together to make such a magnificent whole? I went back to visit them again and again. They were a direct key to a distant and unknowable past.

Arles is nothing but layers of history. Scratch below the surface and who knows what you might find? Such was the case when the foundations of an entire Roman villa where uncovered across the Rhone River in the Trinquetaille neighborhood. The extensive and largely intact mosaic flooring is the basis for the MDAA’s extraordinary collection, one of the finest in France. The museum is also home to a laboratory of experts in mosaic renovation that was formed in a partnership with the Louvre.

But their offices were quiet and only the occasional ‘beep’ of a roaming security guards walkie-talkie echoed in the background, one met in response by the ‘pop’ of Remi’s flashes lighting up these slivers of time. Such true patina, well-worn and deserved, what fine classical beauty.

Happy May Day! 

 

For once, I am the one that uncovered le bijou, something that is usually Remi’s specialty.

I had actually seen the ad for a mazet rental in the Vaucluse region a few years ago. It promised “tranquilité absolue” or absolute tranquility, something that definitely peaked my interest. But then we discovered Simiane la Rotonde and never looked back. Alas, our cabanon there had already been booked for Easter and for various reasons (including not having 100% faith in our ancient Saab) we didn’t want to travel too far from home. And so I dug through my files and had a pleasing “Ah-ha” moment when I came upon the mazet again, hidden in a forest and yet close to all. It was available and I knew immediately upon arriving that we had discovered a true find.

The late afternoon light played in the trees and through the hills rolling out in front of us. Besides the owner’s house – set a fair distance a part from the mazet – we could see nothing but forest and sky. No roads, no cars, no electric cables. Nothing. The wind whispered “Welcome.” The birds agreed.

Was I ready to drop into the world’s most comfortable loungers for a nap? Most certainly and soon…