Lately I have been extremely busy. Quite a change, some would say!
I am a photographer. My work is very important in my life. After finally getting my professional website on the net, I’m aiming at a lot more.
Two contemporary art galleries have shown some interest in my work and I have meetings set up with their directors. For me it would be a huge break.
So I’ve been spending a lot of time sorting and checking hundreds of pictures to make sure that besides my website, I’ll be able to show interesting work and projects, interesting enough to get me into this very promising but quite closed-in world of contemporary art exhibitions.
Some days, I go crazy because there are so many pictures to check. You have no idea!
Sometimes, well-hidden among my work pictures, I discover long forgotten family pictures and my mind escapes from reality.
It happened again today...
Since it is cold and dreary outside, those pictures sent me back to warmer times, warmer and happier times, should I say.
Once upon a time we were living in a posh suburbia, west of Paris. We did not live in the poshier part but in some kind of a small village inside the town, the way the Paris area grew throughout the centuries.
There still were fields and orchards around our home. Most of the houses in the street were delightful small houses built at the beginning of the XXth century when the street still was a country lane.
Our own home used to be a barn.
Not very far from us, a very charming brick house was standing at the heart of a huge garden (quite extraordinary being so close to Paris). Old trees, quite tall. Flowers everywhere. A very beautiful ornamental garden and a vegetable patch and an orchard... (which I saw later.)
The wisteria which framed the windows was amazing, so dense and colorful.
The first time I walked past this house, I remember I stopped to gape at it behind its gates. The wisteria was in full bloom. And there was color everywhere. Tulips, roses, and tons of flowers I didn’t know.
It did look beautiful and peaceful.
A few days later, while I was waiting for Swee’ Pea to come out from his new school to walk back home with him, a woman my age came up to me with a big smile on her face.
She already knew who I was (quite easy I guess to spot a newcomer) and she told me her daughter and my son were in the same grade.
She looked delighted. She smiled a lot. She laughed a lot. I felt instantly that I no longer was an outsider.
The children came out. Before we parted in order to feed two hungry mouths, she invited me to come over to her place so that we’d have more time getting acquainted.
«You won’t have any problem finding my house. A wisteria is growing wild on its walls.»
I felt suddenly too shy to let her know that I had already noticed it and that I had fallen in love with it.
It only took us a couple of hours to become best friends, best friends and sisters for life until her very untimely death.
She was so much like her house. Very warm and cosy. I spent so many long hours with her there, basking in her enduring fondness.
She was a very gifted gardener, an extraordinary cook and she made wonderful cakes. She also loved to paint. And her watercolors were beautiful.
She tried to teach me at least the fundamentals but she gave up (because I was too much of a hedonist, I guess. Happiness without effort.)
Actually other things captivated my attention and since her flowers and her food were there for me to enjoy...
The truth was that I admired her very much. She was so great at what she was doing.
It did look beautiful and peaceful.
A few days later, while I was waiting for Swee’ Pea to come out from his new school to walk back home with him, a woman my age came up to me with a big smile on her face.
She already knew who I was (quite easy I guess to spot a newcomer) and she told me her daughter and my son were in the same grade.
She looked delighted. She smiled a lot. She laughed a lot. I felt instantly that I no longer was an outsider.
The children came out. Before we parted in order to feed two hungry mouths, she invited me to come over to her place so that we’d have more time getting acquainted.
«You won’t have any problem finding my house. A wisteria is growing wild on its walls.»
I felt suddenly too shy to let her know that I had already noticed it and that I had fallen in love with it.
It only took us a couple of hours to become best friends, best friends and sisters for life until her very untimely death.
She was so much like her house. Very warm and cosy. I spent so many long hours with her there, basking in her enduring fondness.
She was a very gifted gardener, an extraordinary cook and she made wonderful cakes. She also loved to paint. And her watercolors were beautiful.
She tried to teach me at least the fundamentals but she gave up (because I was too much of a hedonist, I guess. Happiness without effort.)
Actually other things captivated my attention and since her flowers and her food were there for me to enjoy...
The truth was that I admired her very much. She was so great at what she was doing.
The truth was that we were extremely different. Those very differences contributed to our extraordinary friendship, I’m sure.
Today, I found those digitized pictures which had been hiding (and forgotten) in a folder called ‘H1’ because this was the first time I was using my Hasselblad. Such a long time ago.
Outside it is cold and dreary. Flowers are blooming on my desktop. Her flowers and her wisteria on her house.
Today, I found those digitized pictures which had been hiding (and forgotten) in a folder called ‘H1’ because this was the first time I was using my Hasselblad. Such a long time ago.
Outside it is cold and dreary. Flowers are blooming on my desktop. Her flowers and her wisteria on her house.
*Good Luck, and Good Night*
1 comment:
Beautiful memories in beautiful pictures to warm a cold day.
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