warm and cloudy
after much anticipation
j’arrive !
I arrive at the Château de Sacy
with my kind husband/chauffer
it is midday and H serves us lunch
almost immediately
on the terrace,
which is fronted by a balustrade
from a real Château
late last night H arrived from Paris
and made an aromatic quiche
for us all
she has guests
a subdued Australian
and his insouciant and dark haired daughter
the trip to europe
is his gift to her
for reaching 21
the house is long and shuttered
mostly one room deep
upstairs I have my own
gaffe
a 3 room affair of unforced
and perhaps 19th century charm
a bed in a niche
framed by pink curtains
(fit for a fairytale princess –
I feel like an excited 6 year old)
the associations are painterly
a bed fit for a Fragonard madmoiselle maybe
a bathroom
with sunlight filtering
through uneven glass and nets
warm flecks of light
hit the wall
and ricochet
across the room
like Bonnard’s brushstrokes
and the wooden kitchen table
and rush seat chairs
seem borrowd from Van Gogh
then I am alone
un-hitched now
for a while
from family and work
unpacked and taking in
the ambience
I instagram a bit
to hold on to the newness
and to show my daughter
where I am
knowing she would love it
but I am untethered from
one kind of every day
and about to embark on another
being an artist in residence
is a strange and marvellous thing
in utilitarian times
when everything, elsewhere feels
stretched thin, pinned down
by meanness and fear
