Sunday, June 18, 2006

potager

studio.JPG

The work has finally finished in the studio and Julian is making up his own creamy chaux mixture and putting the finishing touches to his palace. Slowly, with each trowelled figure of eight, he is making himself at home; claiming and inhabiting his space. The new easel is on order so watch out for BIG joyous paintings!

What’s next?

Well, there’s the rest of the house….and then there is the question of land. I don’t think I’ll ever get my swimming pool here, but we have been advised by our estate agent to contact the man who owns the vines opposite the house and make a proposal to rent or buy a parcel of his vineyard.

“Just say you want to make a little ‘potager’” (a lovely innocent word for vegetable garden derived from the word for soup – not ‘I would like to have somewhere to put a pool or build a wall or bury the septic tank’, but ‘I would just like to have a little ‘soup making plot’’.).

I phoned Monsieur Vendran and first apologised for covering the front row of his vines with lime and hemp and having mixers clacking in the place he normally turns his poison spraying machine. Then I asked if I could come round one early evening to discuss the land.

“Call me after the tenth of July. ‘Je suis dans les cerises’” he replied.

It took me a moment to figure out if he was actually standing in a cherry orchard on a mobile phone and would be until mid-July, but no this was a land-line. He must have been at home. Then of course I figured that his whole world, until the season ends, is cherries, and that there is no space in his head for the fate of his grapes.

So what is it, this desire to ‘own’ a plot of land? Julian has always gardened and he misses it. I sat in a friend’s garden the other night under her fig tree which she had tended from young, amidst her wild roses and herbs, her budding cherry tomatoes and her lettuces, and it was not like sitting at the foot of the mountain - that's more like being in the presence of a God. No, it was like being amongst family.

I hope I get to find out. The following examples from a Steiner school model village (Yves' daughter's house is the hemp one) illustrate that the potaging instinct flowers in us naturally along with the nesting instinct if we let it.

house4

house3

house2

house1

house5

6 Comments:

Blogger zhoen said...

That first room is so warm and lovely.

8:51 PM  
Blogger Dale said...

(o)

1:08 AM  
Blogger MB said...

Oh, the light!

9:37 PM  
Blogger Darius said...

Je crois que vous n'est pas en la Francais parceque vous n'ecrire pas c'est langue.

Moi, je suis tres la francais. J'etudie en ecole secondaire deux ane.

C'est bien, n'est pas?

10:50 PM  
Blogger sweetgrassstudio said...

This comment has been removed by the author.

1:02 AM  
Blogger sweetgrassstudio said...

I really love your writing Ruth. You share short wee stories and hold them together with such gentle astute observations, revealing just enough personal that I feel we have just had tea together.
I am just this week putting the gardens to bed. There is relief when I think of the time freed up to rest and reflect, and begin planning for next season; but I also find some sadness at the reminder of mortality and the realization that for the next 5 months there will be little color in our world.
How fantastic that Julian has been able to realize this lovely studio.
Thanks for your sharing,
Warmest Regards,
Iana

1:04 AM  

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