'Aller au fil de l'eau' means to go with the flow. It is also, appropriately, the name of the café in the small French village where I live. On the terrace, the atmosphere is relaxed, life seems to mosey along no faster than the river that slips lazily by. In spring and early summer, conversations are often accompanied by a chorus of croaking frogs. Creating this blog is some kind of commitment to take brush or pen or pencil in hand every day and make art. As Julia Cameron says: "...creativity is not a marathon event that we must gird ourselves for, whacking off great swaths of life as we know it to make room for it. Creativity is not aberrant, not dramatic, not dangerous. If anything, it is the pent-up energy of not using our creativity that feels that way". Not making art is like trying to stop the flow of the river. I surrender to the flow and watch where it takes me.

Sunday, 8 January 2012

Table for Four

This is the tiny terrace of the house next-door-but-one, sketched looking sideways from my attic window. I've been eyeing this scene for many months as I love the shadows cast by the bars and the wrought-iron furniture. There is always a slight atmosphere of abandonment since the house is only occupied a few days a year when the owner comes over from Ireland. On her last visit she left the cloth under the lamp and it has been blown about and rained on.
La minuscule terrasse de la maison après celle d'à côté, croquée de la fenêtre de mon grenier. Cela fait plusieurs mois que je regarde ce tableau en vue d'en faire un croquis car les ombres des barres et des chaises en fer forgé me fascinent. Il y a toujours une ambiance un peu abandonnée parce que la maison n'est occupée que quelques jours par an. La dernière fois, la propriétaire avait laissé une nappe sous la lampe que le vent et la pluie ont malmenée.


New Year's Day in Fa and it was warm enough to set up my newly acquired sketching stool outside. Dave's 2CV, affectionately known as Fifi, is a familiar sight in the village. She rarely gets an outing these days. An English couple walking past recalled seeing her upside down in a ditch not too long ago. It's a shame they don't make these cars anymore... they're so quintessentially French. 

Fa, le Premier de l'an. Il faisait bon, assez chaud pour me permettre d'installer mon nouveau tabouret dehors sur la place. Tout le monde connaît la 2cv de Dave, surnommée Fifi. Elle reste la plupart du temps stationnée au coin de la rue. Deux passants se souvenaient de l'avoir vue renversée dans un fossé il n'y a pas longtemps. C'est dommage que Citroën ne les fabrique plus... elles sont tellement françaises.