The View from here...and there

View of the landscape beyond Montmirail, with prunings being burned before spring planting

Our beautiful late winter climate has given way to a chillier and stormier early spring weather pattern. As usual for this time of year, I spend a lot of time gazing out my windows and snapping pictures of the ever-changing moods of the big sky before me. Previously I had never lived in a house where I could have a view of surrounding countryside. It is truly mesmerizing at all times of the day and night. I never seem to tire of surveying this quiet little corner of the world around me.

Dramatic storm clouds over the village

Coming as I do from California, where the weather can be easily predicted and events planned without much fear of miscalculation, days here seem full of surprises. In the space of a few minutes, you can have rain, sun, cold, warmth. Clouds simply race across the sky.

Two of our most typical bird species overlooking our terrace where they make their homes

The early birds are back in town, sparrows, black birds and morning doves are busy building nests. We found a new little home tucked behind our trellis where two varieties of clematis grow. The little ones can be raised up amidst a profusion of flowers that these plants offer in late spring and early summer. Seems a splendid way to begin life. The morning doves always like to build their nests in our wisteria branches, although we vigorously discourage them. The wisteria has not leafed out so is not yet a target for their construction ambitions. In the meantime, we have found them at our back sill with sticks in their beaks, trying to negotiate our dormer window eaves. This is not a good idea, as this window remains open all day and night in summer months, and I can see a serious conflict of interest developing.

Crows in large groups swoop through the sky each evening before settling down for the night

The noble crow is a year long resident of Montmirail. Some consider them pests, and they certainly don't have the most beautiful song, but I'm not ashamed to admit that I admire this big old graceless bird. Crows are a highly intelligent, social and fun-loving species. I find their constant presence, roosting high above the valley on roofs, chimney tops, spires and turrets both reassuring and entertaining. This time of year they begin to leave their normally massive group and form smaller family units, but as soon as the young ones are old enough to fly, they rejoin the larger community. They seem to enjoy communal life immensely; one hears few squabbles between individuals. They are such social creatures.

Full moon shines over our valley

This weekend our clocks are set forward an hour and those long summer days begin to be anticipated, but in the meantime the moon and stars come out long before we retire. A recent full moon made a dramatically beautiful appearance from behind dark clouds.

Rick enjoying a moment before dinner

Rick has been working hard, helping some friends remodel their house in Le Perche. He takes a well-deserved break before dinner preparation begins to enjoy a beer and read the headlines while sitting in the window seat.

Emily across the table at a Parisian cafe

Recently we went to visit the family in Paris on a Wednesday, which is still a day off for Quinn. Traditionally all young children have the day off in France. The rules change about this next year, when Wednesday morning becomes a school day for elementary students all over the country. This is a slightly controversial new law, as Quinn, who is only five and still in kindergarten, like most young children, is in school four days a week from 9AM until 4:30PM, a relatively long day of learning for a kid. Four days of that a week has seemed enough to many people.

On the Wednesday in question, Quinn had a morning workshop at Le Centre Kapla. After dropping him off, Emily, Rick and I took a little walk through the neighborhood and then had coffee in an atmospheric retro cafe down the street from Le Centre.

Structure built by the older children in the workshop

Kaplas are beautiful and simple pine blocks, all of the same size and shape, an elongated rectangle. They come in a few colors as well as the classic unpainted variety. They were created by a Dutch designer living in France in the late 80s. They stack beautifully and with nothing but gravity to hold them together, allow for some remarkable constructions. At Le Centre kids of all ages learn a little engineering and physics and work at making some marvelous structures.

Some of the creations made by the younger kids

Quinn is an enthusiastic builder, spending hours with his blocks, brio trains and legos, so the Kapla class was right up his alley.

Quinn proudly shows off the boat he helped to make

We had a very pleasant morning as did Quinn, followed by a lovely lunch at a Lebanese restaurant not far from Quinn's workshop. I have to admit that one of my favorite activities in Paris is going out to lunch or dinner. There are so many choices. Here at the maison we scarcely ever venture out for a meal.

Quinn and Zinnie share well together. Both love books.

Zinnie did not join us on this particular adventure, as Wednesday is not a holiday for her from her pre-school course. She is growing up fast and is at that stage where if you know her well enough you can understand what she is saying. If not, probably her phraseology will remain a mystery.

Finished portrait of Emily Dickinson in my authors series

In the studio I have been working on several things, including a couple of new prints, a big quilt for Emily and Jos and some old photographic techniques, including photo-etching and cyanotype. I have just received a chemical which when mixed with watercolor will allow me to add color to cyanotypes. I have yet to give it a try.

Bernard and Françoise at the breakfast table

Our good friends Bernard and Françoise came to visit us last weekend. Our relationship with them goes way back to 1998, when they hosted my son James for an AFS cultural exchange year in France, when he was 16. They have since become some of our dearest friends, helping us out in so many ways since we moved to France.

Rick and Françoise in conversation

We have had many happy encounters with these lovely people. Lately our lives have made it harder to meet nearly as often as we would like, so to have the opportunity to be together for a couple of days was a treat.

The cherry tree pregnant and waiting to burst into bloom

Without doubt, my very favorite springtime activity is gardening. Truth be told, it's the only time of year I have much interest in it at all. Summer days are too hot and the plants are tired and over extended, putting the garden to bed in fall is tedious. And of course we don't even bother to come up to the garden during the winter months, except to gather kindling from our shed. But spring weather calls like a siren to me and I become completely obsessed, to the point where currently I am so tired and achy from all the bending and shoveling, that I really would be grateful if it rained this afternoon to save me from myself by preventing me from over-doing it again.

The grass is full of violets this time of year

At the end of the summer last year we built a deck in the garden. We haven't had a season yet for enjoying it. This spring we are putting in a back flower garden, to harmonize with our new entertaining space. We're starting from scratch and are also completely redesigning our existing yard, meaning that almost everything is being transplanted to somewhere else. Hopefully there will be many more photos to share next time, although, of course, the garden isn't in its glory until June.

Rick begins our new garden project

Days of Wine and Roses

Dreaming of sunny days, I played with this image I took in Barcelona last year.

Our spring is a bit unpredictable this year! The sun plays hide and seek, the rains they come and go. One has to profit from the periods when the sky is blue and the air is warm, to race out to the garden and smell the roses, which are in abundance at the moment.

On the terrace are three kinds of climbing roses, sharing one trellis. They are all in glorious bloom. The light pink one was a gift from our local wine merchant, Roland. I don't know the variety, but it's a little like a Cecil Bruner in that it grows vigorously, smells, wonderful and blooms a single time during the year. The purple is a charming ancient variety called Veilchenblau. The third is a Ghislaine de Feligonde, a special rambling rose which produces beautiful blooms throughout the season.

Of course our mutabilis rose is the real star. It blooms continuously in all the warmer months and displays several colors on the same plant, as the blooms take different shades as buds, mature blooms, and then as faded ones. Last weekend we stood on the terrace with our clients, all doctors from Paris, and enjoyed it together. It's a bit of a show-off.

Our yellow rose on the front of the house took a bit of a beating in the cold of last winter. We have had to prune it back considerably. But still it is putting out a profusion of blossoms.

In our larger garden, we have an entire bed of rose plants of various varieties. Rick called me over to take a look at this beauty and pronounced it "perfect." It was at that moment, which lasts so temporarily, where its form and color are at their ideal. The sun captured it and made it seem to glow.

If you really love roses, you should visit Rose Notes, a blog by one of my friends, Carolyn Parker. She is the expert and her images are spectacular.

Skies have been dramatic and changeable.

The moon has been full. And of course Venus transited the sun. We couldn't see it, as it was cloudy that day.

It's been such a long time since I've taken you for a walk in our woods. It's such a lovely time of year for a stroll under the trees.

I have been working quite a lot on various art projects. My image "View From Inside" was chosen to hang in an international print show in Richmond, VA. It's the small one just to the right of the sculpture. Rick framed it between two pieces of glass. I like the way it looks floating in its frame.

Here's a sign from St. Suzanne, a beautiful old medieval village not far from us. It's for a storefront where sacred art is exhibited. I find it very amusing how voluptuous this nun is!

Some Signs of Spring

Wisteria buds beginning to open just outside our windows.

Moody skies, showers, sun, more showers.

Yellow fields of safflower, punctuated by red earth, plowed in neat rows.

Patchwork colors as seen from out our upstairs window.

Ancient gnarled trees covered in pink blossoms.

The sun encouraging bare branches to bring forth their colors.

Delicate new leaves appearing first as an apricot color.

Happy moist grass on the castle/farm down the road.

Curious cows, duck pond reflecting stone farm building.

Clouds with personality.

Our village on the hill in morning mist.

Week 26: Mostly Gray

 

This week has brought rainy, gray weather. The leaves have fallen, the temperature has continued to drop, and fog hides the landscape most mornings. Days are short, clients scarce, and responsibilities self-imposed. I have never appreciated the winter so much before moving to Montmirail. After all, my days spread out in front of me, there is a cozy fire in the studio, and spending all day painting, drawing, etching or just dreaming up new ideas seems a profound luxury. I have hardly ventured out the front door this week, and I've enjoyed every minute. I wake up each morning excited to discover what I can make of the day.

We did have clients on the weekend, but they were the kind who are so easy that we hardly knew they were there before they had left again. We glimpsed blue skies and the sun peeking out from behind clouds from time to time, but those moments too were fleeting. We ripped hungrily into various projects, as if we had been starving for just such uninterrupted free days. Before Christmas we have two more trips abroad planned, one to England and one to Germany, so this quiet week was greatly appreciated.

Rick did find time to visit the garden. He began to put it to bed for the winter.  Nothing more was growing except for the last heroic dahlias. What generous plants these are! Giving copiously and constantly between July and November. Last year we mulched the bulbs and left them in the ground, against the advice of Michel and Jonathan. The winter was particularly harsh and we assumed we had lost them all, but in fact most survived. We will probably chance it again this year, even though cold and snow are predicted.

 

Tomato plants dead and gone

The bare bones of the garden

We cut the last blooms for our weekend clients

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One project I have had in mind since last summer is painting a series of cloud images. I have taken numerous photos as the year has gone along. It has been a year of particular cloud appreciation. When we were in Le Havre we saw an entire long wall covered with small canvases of cloud studies. I found them so charming I wanted to make a series myself. Finally, I've had the chance to begin. I painted these on masonite with oils. We mounted them on the wall as they will take several weeks to dry and I need the room on my table for other projects.

***

During our visit to Chaumont-sur-Loire a few weeks ago, we discovered a small shop with a sign "Atelier de Gravure". We were compelled to enter. Inside we found a small room with a small woman sitting next to a wood stove, cutting paper chains with a tiny pair of scissors. All around the four walls were hundreds of etchings, tacked up. The paper cut outs, which she also produces, were pasted to the windows. It turns out the artist lives and works in this minute space with a very small press right in the middle of the room. There was barely space to move around for all the supplies and books. Her work table was under the front window. Since her studio is small, her images are the same, some not more than an inch or two square. She makes little drawings of people, animals and the castle, quite naive, but charming. I was fascinated by the size of her plates, which she showed me. She doesn't bother to protect them with talc or wrap them in paper and plastic. They all just sit in a box, jumbled on top of one another. She told me that she buys her plates at Charbonnel in Paris and cuts them up herself. I had never seen such thin copper. Charbonnel, located on the left bank across from Notre Dame, makes the highest quality etching inks. I hadn't purchased copper from them before, so last time we were in the city, I went there to have a look. I was very pleased with the thin and inexpensive small plates and bought several to experiment with. In the studio this week, I had my first chance to use them. They are about 2" x 4". I have been trying to work bigger, but in fact small is more natural to me. I like to work quickly, without too much agonizing over details.

Wren and Cedars

Girl and Cat

Chair by the Window

They're so fast to ink and print and one doesn't feel nervous about experimenting. If it all goes wrong, it's not as if you've destroyed a large precious copper plate.

***

I also began a series of illustrations for a story Emily is writing, The Very Big Something.

 

Edith Eagans was busy baking bread like any other day

Sadie Stevens was counting chicken eggs like any other day

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For obvious reasons, I cannot post photos of some of the Christmas projects we have worked on this week, but I did make some package tags which I will continue creating this week. I plan to put them into my Etsy shop. They are cut out of antique postcards, of which I have a huge number.

***

Driving home through the countryside one evening we were treated to an exquisite sunset. It was mesmerizing as the colors, at first brilliant, darkened and clouds floated into ever-changing forms. At first we exclaimed to each other about its beauty and stopped to snap photos. In the end we were speechless and simply enjoyed the show, which we were able to appreciate from start to finish.