The Paris Episodes: Only those who will risk going too far...

... can possibly find out how far one can go.

T.S. Elliot

How long has it been that I have been promising you the story of my travels to Wales and why I went there? Actually, don't tell me. Guilt and remorse are pushing me down, down, down into the depths of my paint tin for not having approached my blog since almost August 2nd. Tsk Tsk! Shame on moi!! 

You'll be pleased to know that I can't sink too far into my paint tin as I've painted 4 coats each on the CFH (ceilings from hell) and have very little of the 26 litres of paint left enough to drown in ;-)

En plus, it's nearly time to return to Wales again for my September retreat. Honestly though, first things first. You can't start a story in the middle. Let's go back to where it all began. Once upon a time in France...

Sharon, very talented author from My French Country Home (Yes! Yes! She writes great French/English books for bilingual children that are available here), has asked a few of us to reveal what brought us to the very poised yet paradoxical France as part of her French Settler Week theme. Aside from the trip down memory lane and the kick up the butt I needed to get writing again, I'm hoping that by joining in, I might actually be able to reveal to myself exactly what made a small Kiwi girl say to her young mother back in some obscure year in the 1970's, "When I grow up I'm going to live in France." 

To this day it's still anyone's guess where that idea came from. Fate? A home decorating magazine left open at a random page for an impressionable 6 year old to see? Did New Zealand have home decorating magazines in the 70's? Whatever the motivation, living in France in some distant future remained fixed in my mind as I grew and left NZ for a new life in Australia where five year's of high school French taught me little other than how to make hot chocolate, nutella crêpes ...

 ... and the French lyrics to Stevie Wonder's, "I just called to say I love you." Oui! Oui! There are French Lyrics to this song. Look them up!  "Je t'appelle pour dire je t'aime."

Mind you, as I'm sure you can imagine, they were of little help in making a good impression to the selection committee at TNT Transport when I had to explain why I wanted to be an exchange student to France. Never-the-less, Fate and Stevie must've both been on my side that day for they later gave me a 1 year scholarship to Belgium as few families in France were hosting AFS students that year.  But that's another story... 

A year in a French/Belgian family as an exchange student was just the tip of the iceberg and only kindled the flame rather than dousing the fire and I vowed to finish my degree and return to France indefinitely. Was it a calling? (Oh please don't say that ... I want to leave one day - really I do!!) In any case, it was certainly a fixation with me - in spite of choosing a degree in Chinese and international trade and finance. Yes, I know. She does Chinese - but wants to move to France. Can anyone else help me on that one??? No comment!!  OK - bear with me. Regardless of appearances, it's all linked. Sort of. N'est ce pas?

Fixation. Fixation. Fixation. You know, I have never seen myself as single minded or stubborn. Dam-ned! (as we say in French) But for whatever reason, I just couldn't get that country out of my head. Why not Italy? Why not China? What was it about France, and Paris in particular? Chanel, Avenue Montaigne, l'Arc de Triomphe, Le Louvre, Père Lachaise, the artists on the Left Bank...

One thing it definitely had going for it was UNESCO, the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organisation.  Of course, I wasn't aware of UNESCO way back when I was 6, but it started popping up here and there as I looked (unsuccessfully) for a position, any position, in international aid work. With none forthcoming for a young woman of my enthusiasm and glaring lack of experience, I decided it was time to give fate a bit of a nudge and find a way of getting back to France. For surely that was where it was all happening.

Have you noticed that about life? Things don't always go in a straight line. Oh I got to France alright, but not doing international aid work. My life-saving job after telemarketing, sales rep for copy and print services, statistical analyst and market researcher for International Medical Statistics was as a conference organiser. Yup! The job that makes you the ideal dinner party companion and allows you to travel the world. At least in as far as  you can organise conferences in a language other than your own. 

After two years locally with the conference organising company, 6 months of socialising at Alliance Française Auckland, practising my new French conversation - you definitely heard right, conversation - with fabulous now EX (see previous Paris Episodes) and two 1 hour interviews by telephone with the Paris office, I was told I had the job, nearly fainted exhaled and promptly sold most of my possessions in the space of one weekend. My birthday weekend, 16 years ago.

16 years ago. I'll be 40 this year! Six months later I arrived in Paris, ready to write my first two-day conference and interview more than 40 potential speakers IN FRENCH on the exceptionally exciting topic of "The corrosion of industrial chemical storage tanks." Yes, well it's getting late and really, the topic is as just as exciting as it sounds. 

Several weeks later, through a chance introduction, I walked through the doors of UNESCO on La Place de Fontenoy and into the start of my lifelong passion for women's and girls' literacy and education.

The person who changed my life in that 'chance meeting' just celebrated her wedding in Sissinghurst gardens, Kent, last week which gave me the chance to reflect fondly on the days when we were so broke that we could only afford a bottle of wine together on the Pont des Arts, or sit up on the roof of her 9m sq bedsit in Avenue du Président Kennedy and watch the lights of the Eiffel Tower twinkle into forever as we made our dreams for the future.

She has since been promoted to Head of Education for a renowned NGO, and here I am ready to leave for India in October on my quest to start a fair trade project with Tibetan refugee women's groups. My how time flies. 

Thanks Sharon, part of the fun of writing this was to see if I could decipher what really motivated me to come to France in the first place.  I still don't know what my original reasons were way back when. They may forever remain a mystery to all of us, both the little girl, her mother and the rest of her entourage (insert music from Ripley's 'Believe it or Not').

Whatever the reason, there seems to be an element of destiny lurking in there somewhere and enough to keep me in this country in the mean time in spite of, or maybe because of all the challenges it offers on a daily basis.  Now Wales and India have wiggled themselves into the equation... But those stories will have to wait until someone else can manage to pull me away from this bottomless paint tin.

Go well everybody. 

Love

Ange

PS. And what of LURVE? AMOOOOUUUUUR? Well, I  have three enigmatic things to say about it.

1/ French men seem to be attracted to foreign women. Accordingly, any attempts at passing unnoticed in a sport that you dare to try in your new country ONLY and I repeat ONLY because no-one knows you and you think you can slink off incognito if you're no good, will prove to be COMPLETELY futile.

 (photo from Corsicaraid.com)

2/Regardless of whether you think you look like a gasping lobster after your second 2 hour swim training session, the Frenchie who walks up to you as you get out of the pool is not likely to be wanting to collect your club fees.

3/I have a huge debt to the great French transport strikes of 1995 which, even as they shattered small businesses and ground the whole country to a screeching halt,  propelled me prematurely into the boyfriend's apartment which just happened to be conveniently located five minutes walk from my office. Needless to say, I never left. 

Three messmonsters later...

Any questions??

I love to sail forbidden seas...

... and land on barbarous coasts.

Herman Melville, Moby Dick

Talk about barbarous coasts! 

Cleaned out the garage. Painted the ceilingS. Painted the kitchen. Cleaned out the office and upstairs ready to place the new home-made shelves for homeschooling. 

Breathe IN. 

Breathe OUT. 

Breathe IN! 

Gasp!

These are just a few of the reasons I appear to have sailed off the end of the world. 

Mayday! Mayday!

Captain going down with ship!!!

 JUST got my last calligraphy assignment in by the skin of my teeth. 

The theme?

 

Le Voyage

Très apt! In one hour I'm leaving for 3 days at Cap Ferret on the Atlantic Coast. 

Better race off and quickly pack the car. Really, how hard can it be? 4 bikes, swimwear, 3 bottles of rosé and one of champagne. It'll be done in no time!

Happy 11th birthday today to my darling Chickpea! 

Nothing like a few waves to celebrate n'est-ce pas?

But wait!

There's more!

More on the travel theme that is on Thursday morning. 

In a rare display of uncharacteristic organisation I have answered Sharon's plea to explain how I sailed to French shores and even scheduled the post for 9am as at that precise time I hope to be half submerged in salt water by my 3 messmonsters (applause ;-). 

Surely I will make it firmly and resolutely back to the beaches of blogland soon. Help! SOS! Send me a lifeline and haul me back in. You all seem to be drifting off on the currents and disappearing over the horizon as I bob around like a piece of the driftwood I use so often as a canvas. 

I very much hope you are all well and enjoying yourselves on balmy shores.... 

Promise Promise I'll be popping by for a life-saving cuppa soon!

Much love

If you want to draw...

...you must shut your eyes and sing

Pablo Picasso

It's been kinda like that recently. I'm not sure if it's the sunshine that I was convinced had given up on Southern France and taken up permanent residence in Aussie, the messmonsters who gaily go about making more mess for me to clean up or the great friends who've been popping back into my life after long absences ... 

But sing I do! 

And Fling! 

I'm still  a bit overly resentful of my Mac and it's place of residence in our sinister rather dark office which is why my disappearing act has been extended for another season. Methinks a laptop out in the sun could be the solution to all my problems!!

Anyway, back to Picasso's wise words... There's been a lot of singing going on at La Rivière. 

First of all Amelia Critchlow via her Experimental Art E- Course has suggested we take time to fling stuff at the page just to see what would happen. What a delight! HOW OFTEN DO YOU GET ORDERED TO DO THAT?!! Of course, the art course has just finished and I'm finally getting the time to work on it... but I'm hoping Amelia will forgive me for that too.

 Belting out 'I'm Yours' at the top of my lungs, obedient girl that I am, I let fly: Food colouring, ink,  water colour ... more ink ... I don't know why people call going back to childhood 'regressing.' To my mind, being a child is much more fun when you're a responsible adult.

Then there's been the practice for my 40th birthday party coming up in September. I'm forewarning those of you who are coming before it's too late that there's still time to pull out. The voice that hasn't been brought to the public ear since her last high school musical if you don't count the fiasco at my wedding is preparing to make its next appearance to an unsuspecting audience. This means lots of rehearsals as I fling, fling, fling! 11 year old Chickpea told me I was really cool and she was proud of me. She's too young to ask me to borrow the car yet so it must be sincere. If I'm not going to embarrass my 11 year old, I may not embarrass myself either!!

Have I forgotten something important? I was meant to tell you about Wales? You ask about Wales??? What's Wales got to do with singing? Through all the singing and doodling and time spent in my garden, I have finally come up with the most unboring way of telling you about my trip to Wales.  You just have to wait another couple of weeks days.

The messmonsters have just taken their father for two weeks holiday while I 'work.'  Since I started writing this post a week ago, I have painted the kitchen walls and ceiling, and am moving into the dining room. Wednesday (as in the day after tomorrow Wednesday) we start building a bona fide REAL studio for MOI in our garage. Praise the powers that be - my dining room will be set free of its identity crisis and the table will finally be used for presenting food once again!!  Of course, with  all this space and light, I am bound to find the time write more blog posts...

Well possums, I look a bit like a living Jackson Pollock painting (remind me not to answer video chat sessions when I've been painting the ceiling ... it's interesting the descriptions one's friends can come up with) and I can hear the call of my paint pots!

La la la la la la LAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Picasso would be proud of me - I'm sure ;-) 

Filling up my Senses ...

You might have noticed I can't quite make it back to blogging.
This is just a glimpse of why ...
It's summertime and I'm completely overwhelmed by a sense of gratitude for life in general.



Well, there you have it! From time to time I have a soppy moment ;-) Make the most of it as the humour will be back next time. I know, I still have to tell you where I went and why in Wales. I still have to show you my latest artwork, and I'm pleased to say, I've been productive afterall ...
But in the mean time - I've been too busy just with the pure joy of being alive.

Hope you are too.

Love

PS - This song brings back childhood memories. There is an interesting string of exquisitely happy coincidences that are happening in my life at the moment which make me giddy with joy. As they continue, I will share them with you. Ever had that feeling like the whole universe is opening up before your eyes? It's a bit like that ...

9 minuti...

I would like to say I have writer's block. In fact - I almost passed it off that way ;-)

I will admit to spending an inordinate amount of time over the last week
playing in my own back yard, painting, and 

watching my youngest messmonster play with his little Italian best friend.

They talk and talk like two old dames.

It's fascinating enough for me to spend my whole day observing them from behind my paintbrush.

Natter. Natter. Natter.

But now I'm under stress.

I have 9 minuti only to make sure the pasta is perfect.

For this boy only eats what 'La Mama' cooks.

Thank Crikey I won 'The Silver Spoon Cookbook for Kids'
from Meredy or 'La Mama' may not leave me her son tomorrow ;-)

And then how would I occupy my Pokemon so I could paint?

9 minuti doesn't leave me much time for doodling or painting for Amelia's art course.

But I slipped a bit in.
These are the fun, playing around doodly bits that I just never allow myself to do. 

Yoiks!

The pasta's boiling over.

Beaker's away so my evening is free after the two 'old dames' are in bed for me to drop by later.  Expect a visit!
.

Ciao Ciao Bellas ;-)

9 minuti goes so fast ...

Older, wiser, sexier... ?

Given the ahem, intriguing title, you may be asking yourself just what exactly I was up to during my time in Wales ;-) Was I on a luxury, week long spa with black peat body packs and  pure merino sweat blankets? 

Noooo friends - but given the copious amounts of great vegetarian food that I lacked the strength not to take extra servings of, I had to run a lot of kilometres through the black peat that week, startling more than one poor sheep out of it's slumber at the unGodly hour of 6am most mornings as I scaled the green hills above the retreat centre. Why so early? Can't miss breakfast! It's the most important meal of the day. Well, along with lunch and dinner that is ;-)

Many of the people I was with rose at dawn for their yoga practice. Regrettably there was no chocolate to encourage me to stretch that far so I opted for long runs where I could lose myself in the heath and banish all thoughts of chocolate from my head. Not that I got lost - my running partner had a map. This comes in handy when you're in unfamiliar territory. So does chocolate ...

In fact, I spent my week in meditation and reflection all about life and what the heart wants. So far it appears that my heart wants the same things as Ava Gardner. Ok - before I'm old and grey it wants a few things too ... but a girl can have a long term goal too can't she ? ;-)

For now, I'm back to working on the photo above. Reckon at my age I'm wise enough not to ever be seen in a midriff shirt again, but I'm working on my sexy sweeping glances and hoping they will be enough to clean the house. Efficiency girls! 

If you get the chance, check out this little pearl of a book by very talented cartoonist, Bev Williams. I've often bought her gift cards in England but it was more than I could do not to let out raucous squeal of delight in the middle of the rather British calm department store when I found a whole book of her anecdotes on life.  It almost made up for getting home 5 days late after the transport strikes!!  

There is more to tell of my trip - but I'm still reeling from the magnitude of it. So the telling of the tale will have to wait until I can find the words adequate enough not to reduce the whole marvellous experience to new age hype. 

In the mean time - I have been slowly getting back into blogging. Some of you may not be fully aware of this as although I've been finding just the right amount of time to read your blogs, my attempts at commenting have so far been thwarted by Libellule's unplanned for broken wrist, Chickpea's impromptu school art show, racing out at the last minute to buy gifts for the teachers, make costumes for the afterschool activity finales and generally trying to climb the new mountains of washing that have materialised out of thin air. Of course, this has been exacerbated by the amount of time it takes to master my sweeping glances which unfortunately seem to have NO EFFECT WHATSOEVER on any of the tidying up that needs to be done around here!

Joyfully I can say that the last day of school is tomorrow and there are week long summer camps coming up - for the kids - so I shall be free of school obligations, the loads of washing that mushroomed while I was away have started to dwindle and bit by bit life, and blogging, will be back to normal at La Rivière. 

Thanks for all welcoming me back... Here I come!!

To discover new oceans...

...means finding the courage to lose sight of the shore!

(who DID say that?)

The last 20 days have been magical, trying, not with out their challenges, and not unlike discovering an ocean either.

After the usual French air traffic strikes that kept me across the other side of the ditch in lovely Wales a little longer than I expected (I vaguely thought about swimming across but my suitcase doesn't fit snugly enough on my back ;-), I've just spent the last 3 days battling the dust bunnies that had all but taken over my living space and welcoming spontaneous displays of affection from my giggling, cuddly messmonsters. 

I do believe I have 20 days of catching up on all your news now. What have you all been up to?  

During a brief truce with the dust bunnies yesterday I somehow found the time to start Amelia Critchlow's Experimental Art E Course which has motivated me to get stuck into finishing those bits and pieces for my Etsy store.

I'm all excited to be home and dying to find out how you've all progressed in Bloglandia while I've been away.
Any of you discovered a new Ocean I should know about?

xxx 

Ange

They didn't know it was impossible...

...so they did it anyway.

Attributed to Mark Twain

I told you I had a secret to tell you. A couple of you already know because I've whacked you over the head with it hinted about it. But I'm still shy about saying it. Seeing I'm hiding away for two weeks (I'll tell you why and where when I get back - hehehe - just for some more suspense), I thought it was safe to tell you now. 

See that plank up above?

Well, I look at it every day and motivate myself - making myself believe what's written on it. And as such ... I've actually managed to convince myself that what I have in mind might work. Are you ready? I'm taking a big, deep breath in ... and out ...ANNNNND IIIIIIN ... here goes:

I've been working on a series of 10 'positive planks' like this one (but in different colours and with different motivational texts) to start up a fair trade project with refugee Tibetan artists in India. It's taken me a while to get the design for the prototypes perfect - even though the 'O' in 'Possible' has slipped over to the side a bit and we'll have to rectify that ;-)

What I'm still working on, are the colours. You would not believe how much I am influenced by the lovely pale and muted tones they love so much in France. To the extent that it's really hard for me to hit the bright, bold colours I think these planks need - especially if they are destined for children's rooms. Amanda at Small Acorns has inspired me with her passion for chartreuse and framboise! What about you? What colours would you put on your wall - in a bathroom? A hallway? A kitchen? Your kids' rooms?

HELP!

I have no idea if any of these Tibetan artists are going to want to work on this project with me. I won't find out till I get to Dharamsala later this year. And maybe the planks will undergo a transformation because we rarely end up with exactly what we envisage in the begining. That's the beauty of collaboration and the whole process of art itself, eh Jackie ;-).

Do I know how and where I'm going to sell/distribute them once they're made? NOPE! Not yet anyway. First things first. For some reason I'm just driven to having them made, getting some positive out there and working with women's and girls' groups again like I did at UNESCO. It's sort of like a culmination of my life at this point...  Women's education, Art, Empowerment, Positive ... 

Do I panic sometimes and think THIS'LL NEVER WORK? 

Never! Nearly every day. I try desperately not to listen to that little inner voice that says, 'Who do you think you are? Anita Roddick? There are REAL designers out there who could do this better than YOU! Every one else is already trying to save the world - what do you think you're going to achieve?!'  In fact - I literally knock that voice out of existence with a flurry of paint and a whirl of the paintbrush full of positive intentions. Persistent little bugger - it keeps coming back. Yup - really have to arm myself with these planks to keep afloat ;-)

Well - there you have the secret. Please don't tell me you think I'm crazy. I know that already! Too long in France being 'not normal' does that to you. Any advice on making it work - I'm listening!  Didn't you hear me say I was planning on homeschooling my kids? Until I am lucky enough to move back to a different school system - YES! Life is likely to be busy so I'm arming myself with a big sense of humour right now!

Speaking of busy - I have a flight to catch!!!

Raspberries and yoghurt in turquoise bowl ready for the kids' Bircher muesli tomorrow morning - CHECK,

Notes on everyone's pillows saying I love them - CHECK

Special whipped cream in a can that I never buy because I'm to ecological sitting in the fridge with an 'I miss you!' note on it? CHECK!

Selection of French cheeses and saucissons in suitcase ready for friends across the ditch - CHECK!

Blog post written - CHECK

Housework

Flying out the door. See you in two weeks ... I'm going to miss you all enormously!

Love 

Ange

Joan: the making of a story

Today as I was urging my bike against the wind that hurtled across La Vallée de la Save, my mind was frequently peppered with the words and images I was going to use to describe the incredible transformation of Joan (you haven't forgotten her already have you?). 

And as I huffed and puffed pedaled, I realised that the transformation 

really isn't Joan's, but my own. 

'Huh??' you ask, 'Oh no not another Reality TV, Ange bares all confession!!'

Keep reading - it's not that bad I assure you ;-)

Let me use the words of one of my favourite artists to explain it instead:

The thing has already taken form in my mind before I start it.

(OK - that's not entirely true in Joan's case but she's an exception. I had no idea in the beginning what I wanted her to look like, nor what I wanted her to say. She told me herself.)

 

The first attempts are absolutely unbearable.

(check!)

I say this because I want you to know that if you see something worthwhile in what I am doing, it is not by accident but because of real direction and purpose.

Vincent Van Gogh

Yup! 

Am I going to elaborate further? 

Nope! 

Just kidding. Actually - in Joan's case, I've purely and simply enjoyed a process of playing around and trying stuff out, which is something I NEVER allow myself to do. I encourage my kids to do it. Encourage other grown up types to do it. And never find the time to do it myself. Funny how we are programmed to think that the 'fun' is only 'allowable' if it's definably productive.  Yet it's been sooooo necessary. Why - I may never stop!

My intentions for Joan then? 

1) play around and see how many layers of paint and text I could put on one piece of wood.

She now has officially 8 coats of acrylic paint and gesso in varying degrees of disrepair. 

2) make her look like someone had randomly scratched a message into the paint.

3) make her look like a sort of guerilla art/improvised object that you might find hanging nonchalantly somewhere beachy, on a beach hut or batch - for you kiwis, a weather worn fence etc ... to give some food for thought to passers by. 

What I actually got out of all the playing was much more than a shabby Joan, but rather a knowledge of which instruments work best on the irregularities of wood other than the fine brush I am used to calligraphing with. I got to find out that drawing gum works as well under gesso and thick layers of acrylic paint as under watercolour and ink. I got to enjoy trying lots of different alphabets - none of which were suitable for my purpose but which will look great on other pieces later on. And I got to wallow in indigo, pthalo, ceruleum, turquoise and Hoggar's blue - some of my all time favourite colours. Not to mention allowing myself an hour's hard bike ride because I'd been a good girl and 'discovered' stuff that might just save me time on future pieces! Oops! Have to justify - can't help myself. 

I still don't know if calligraphing is a real verb either... 

Why am I boring you with all this two posts in a row?

Do you really need to know all the nitty gritty psychological benefits of my playing around with paint and wooden objects?

Do you not have busy lives full of much more important things to read - like fashion magazines, recipe books, Ikea instruction manuals... ?

Of course you do!

But thanks for reading anyway.

I've got a case of ...

... NERVES! 

Nervous about what I have to reveal to you (my REAL direction and purpose - or one of them at least) on Thursday just before I disappear for two weeks holiday, leaving the messmonsters in the extremely capable hands of the very overworked Beaker!

Gulp!

I think he will be needing some of this:

Watch this space...

Time to pack my bags.

See you Thursday.

xxx

PS - for the curious person who asked me what drawing gum was. The English translation on my French bottle says, Liquid Frisket. The mind boggles ;-)