"The world is violent and mercurial--it will have its way with you." Listen to this in French, don't miss the lovely end. + Paint in Provence
The world is violent and mercurial--it will have its way with you. We are saved only by love--love for each other and the love that we pour into the art we feel compelled to share: being a parent; being a writer; being a painter; being a friend. We live in a perpetually burning building, and what we must save from it, all the time, is love.” Tennessee Williams (photo of my friend Tess Baker, founder of Paint in Provence.)
Today's Word: MERCURIEL
: changing (mood), fluctuating, inconstant, variable...
Audio File: listen to Jean-Marc read the following quote:
Click here to listen to mercuriel
Le monde est violent et mercuriel--il fera ce qu'il veut avec vous. Nous sommes seulement sauvés par l'amour--l'amour l'un pour l'autre et l'amour que nous mettons dans l'art que nous nous sentons forcés de partager: être un parent; être un écrivain; être un peintre; être un ami. Nous vivons perpétuellement dans un bâtiment en feu, et ce que nous devons en sauver, tout le temps, c'est l'amour. -Tennessee Williams
A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE
by Kristi Espinasse
Tess came to visit this weekend! She's my longtime painter friend from England, who calls tomatoes toh-mah-toes, says things like "mercurial" (to describe the sea), and calls me Darling (as in Daar-ling, we must get together soon!).
We decided to have lunch in Bandol so that Jackie and Tess could see each other, too. Jackie is my 20-year-old daughter and she's studying art in Toulon, and waitressing on Sundays for some argent de poche....
If you happen to be in Bandol on a Sunday, stop in to see Jackie at Le Jêrome. And if you are looking for a recommendation, Tess and I highly recommend the pièce de boeuf. It's outstanding--charred on the outside, cooked à point. After lunch, Tess snuck around the corner, with Jackie, to stuff a big tip into the art student's pocket because in France all tips are collected by le patron, and little of it ends up in the pockets of workers. Jackie insists her boss is fair about this, but Tess wasn't taking any chances, having worked in French restaurants over the 4 decades she's lived here.
After lunch in Bandol, and before our stroll beside the--mercurial--sea here in La Ciotat... Tess suggested we sit down and paint. Quelle idée! I haven't felt that self-conscious since blowing into a giant hunting horn during a proper lunch in a château. I thought my pants would rip right open (and that maybe more than my pants would rip as I let it rip trying to force air through that giant brass horn!).
I felt this kind of vulnerability now. Sensing my fears, Tess had an idea. "We'll paint that lovely willow tree! Let's simply focus on a section of it. We'll paint those branches..." And the way she said it ("braahn-ches") kind of suckered me into this unexpected watercolor session.
My attention was scattered as I watched people walking by our house, sometimes slowing to view the artistic activity here in our garden. Not only was it nerve-racking to be painting beside an artist, but we now had a mobile audience. One of those passers-by was my 8-year-old golden retriever, who parked himself beside my chair. Smokey wanted to play artist, too! which reminded me: just play!
"Notice the light hitting the side of the leaves, Tess was saying. "Now see the darkness on the other side. Let's start with the light...." Tess had already made several vertical brown strokes on her canvas. I hurried to pick up a paintbrush but it felt as awkward as chopsticks. And which one to use? Thank God there were only two. Mimicking Tess, I picked up the big one.
Tess was painting away with a shade of green...but where was this color green in the paintbox? A childhood rhyme came to mind, as I struggled to remember color mixing...yellow and blue make green... (or did yellow and red make green?)
"Here, you can use the color I've already mixed," Tess offered. "Just start sploshing it on!"
I glanced over at Tess's own canvas, wondering what all those verticle brown lines were for?
"Those are the branches, darling," she explained, but all I could see (ahead of me) was the green of the leaves!
"Do you need to get your glah-ses?" Tess hinted.
Oh, yes! Mais bien sûr!
Finally seated, still feeling ill-at-ease before the blank canvas, I bargained with my art teacher: "OK, I'll paint--but only if I can throw it away in the end!
Tess agreed and before long I was settled in. If those paintbrushes felt like chopsticks, the act of painting felt like picking up slippery noodles with those foreign utensils, or brushes. Why was this so difficult for me? I began to think about Tess's former students, and the wonderful works of art I'd seen with my own eyes. And here I could not even paint a leaf--not even an abstract one (as we'd agreed to do, to simplify).
"Just let go!" Tess said. I brushed aside all the torturous thoughts and got on with the moment. When else would a chance like this come around again? A little while later I was giddily painting right over my braahn-ches and trees....with a shower of crimson wings (red for determination? Wings for freedom?). Feeling more and more relaxed, I went to re-dip my brush into the glass of water. That's when I noticed how close the cups were...
"Tess, What are the chances I've dipped my brush into my teacup?" I wondered.
But my good friend brushed aside the worry, "Oh, I'm sure I've done it dozens of times myself. Carry on, darling!"
And like that, we sipped our colorful tea, and painted gleefully. The tourists strode by and the pepper tree swayed gently, mimicking Smokey's golden tail as he snoozed on and off beneath the artist's table.
* * *
Post note: Later, when I went to prepare dinner, I was surprised to find my little painting tucked into the window above my kitchen sink. Tess had set it there...in case I had a change of heart. I was glad it didn't end up in the poubelle. The little work of art was, after all, a sweet souvenir of our time together.
Come to France and Paint Provence With Tess. Read about the time she brought her students to our vineyard, in the story "French Toilet Paper & Other Disasters" (disasters which had nothing to do with painting!
l'argent de poche = pocket money
pièce de boeuf = piece of beef, side of beef, tenderloin
à point = medium rare
le patron = the restaurant owner
quelle idée! = what an idea!
la poubelle = garbage
Read Patricia Sands book set in Provence, order Drawing Lessons here.
Also, Beautiful watercolor illustrations of Provence, click here for this sketchbook
La Petite Aquarelle watercolor paint set from France. Order here
Valrhona chocolate from France, and more in French groceries, here
All-new HD Fire Tablet - and many other tablet models here.
BORDEAUX AND THE DORDOGNE small group tour Sept 17-25 - culture, cuisine & wine. Click here for itinerary.
For those who enjoyed the opening quote, on art and love, here's a post from the 2010 archives. Open up your eyes and your senses and enjoy!
Thank you for the time you've just spent reading this French word story. If you have learned more than a little vocabulary here and find yourself looking forward to the next letter, please know that a one-time contribution helps me continue doing what I love most: improving these posts. Your support is vivement apprécié. Donating via PayPal is fast and easy when you use the links below. Merci infiniment!