Blue Shutters

Everyone has blue shutters here. Heartachingly blue.
They thrill me. They kill me. They make me want Everything.

Cubserviès

This afternoon, during a rain break, I headed off for a hike with a fellow Muser, poet Katharine Whitcomb. Our destination was Cubserviès, a tiny hamlet clinging to the mountain rock. When we were halfway there, it began to rain. Then it poured. By the time we arrived, we were soaked. But, drenched and cold as we were, we ran through the hamlet and exclaimed over the views, including the Cascade de Cubserviès, one of France's lesser-known ("secret") waterfalls. 

Take a peek at Katharine's blog "Poetry Is Cool."

Poetic Space: David Whyte

It's dawned on me that I'm not going to get a lot of "work" done at La Muse. Instead, inspiration and revelation are coming at me so quickly that all I can do is sit back and let it happen. I can feel myself changing shape. Whoever I am at the end of the retreat will be the one who will roll up her sleeves and set to "work."

Poet David Whyte speaks of this transformation in "Revelation Must Be Terrible":

Revelation must be
   terrible with no time left
to say goodbye.

Imagine that moment
   staring at the still waters
with only the brief tremor

of your body to say
   you are leaving everything
and everyone you know behind.

Being far from home is hard, but you know,
   at least we are exiled together.
When you open your eyes to the world

you are on your own for
   the first time...

Read the full poem here.

Join me for Whyte's seminar "What to Remember When Waking" in Vancouver on November 20.


Here is sample of Whyte (on transformation in Rilke's "The Swan"):

Visit David Whyte's web site here.

Carcassonne, Or, Quatorze Bouteille de Vin

My plan today was to see Carcassonne, the second-most visited city in France (according to at least two people I know). I had skipped around the enchanted cité on my way to La Muse, but today I was eager and ready, with a plan of attack.

After an exhilarating (read "gripping") drive down the serpentine one-and-a-half-lane mountain road, my first stop was at Leader Price in the outskirts, to stock up on kitchen staples. As it was première French supermarket experience, I decided to take my time and see everything. And to go easy on the produce, meats, and cheeses, preferring to save myself for the better goods in the local village shops.


Two hours later, I emerged with four brimming bags of groceries--three of them stuffed with bottles of wine (I counted fourteen bottles in all when I got home). Huzzah!

I ate a quick lunch, then let loose at Cultura, an art, book, and music store, where I splurged on a beautiful fountain pen and a bottle of livid turquoise ink that reminded me of absinthe. I also made off with a pretty blue box of pastels and a stack of lovely textured papers.

Eager to break out my new art (and drinking) supplies, I flew back to Labastide, happening to catch a distant view of La Cité along the way:

I'm getting closer...

La Muse

La Muse is everything you could want in an artists' retreat: it's beautiful, romantic, serene, and comfortable, with gorgeous views, kilometers of forest trails, and a library you wish you could pack up and take home with you. 

The inn is an old stone manor house, parts of which date back to the twelfth century, which 

Kerry and John have lovingly restored and furnished. Each of the rooms is named after one of the classical Muses. I'm staying in Erato, named after the muse of lyric and love poetry--fitting for troubadour country.

The entrance to La Muse

Erato

Labastide-Esparbaïrenque is itself a magical place. Sweet figs drop from the trees, the streets are picturesque, narrow, and steep, and the church bell tolls the time every hour--twice.

View of the patio from the rooom

The streets of Labastide

All in all, this is the perfect space for creativity to blossom.

To read more about La Muse Inn, click here. To apply for a residency at La Muse, click here.

Welcome

Welcome to Temple of Leaves.

It's my first day in southern France, and already I'm inspired.

I'm at La Muse, a writers' and artists' retreat in run by Kerry Eielson and John Fanning in Labastide-Esparbaïrenque, a tiny medieval village tucked away in the Black Mountains. I'm ostensibly here to paint, but I've already confessed to John that I'm really working on giving shape to a nebulous dream of mine--to create beautiful, peaceful sanctuaries in places that need them. Refuges from the clamor and whir of everyday life. Retreats both tangible and ethereal. Spaces where one's thoughts can be heard, vital conversations can be had, and dreams can take shape.

The door opens; the quest begins...

Click here to share your thoughts and suggestions about your own favorite places.