Posts
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| Bee on Cornflower - On the way to Honey Festival |
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| Le Maine Meunier - Ferme Auberge - Chavenat, Honey Festival |
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| Oak leaves - the Forest, Grassac |
Autumn glaze, fall leaves tumbling, the warm gossamer air still embracing us - biking at first light past fields of burnt orange, mixed with buffy tweeds & pale greens, violet ferns, magenta leaves and red roses hugging stone walls, purple grapes, mustards and gold leaf - October, I say it out loud and some melancholy creeps in - goodbye Indian summer.
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| Old Shed - Doumerac |
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| Last roses - Doumerac |
"Sometimes in our life, a door opens. We enter, and a new landscape appears in front of us--a scene that is new, vaster and more striking than anything we have ever been used to. Before we were contained in a small safe place. We did not imagine this door existed. But once we open it, we find beautiful views, hills and valleys, sunlit rivers, mists like embroidery, wide spaces. Our life will never be the same." Piero Ferrucci from Beauty and the Soul
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| Roses against stone wall - Doumerac |
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| Butterfly - Doumerac |
Some say life is short, I say life is tall, grab a straw - SARK
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| Girl Spinning - Hotel de Ville - Angouleme |
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| Circuit des Remparts - Angouleme |
The last few months my world has been blurry, as I've waited for eye surgery to burn off the cloud cover from my eyes. As I waited and waited and waited, my French friend Annie gave me a wonderful piece of advice, passed on to her from one of her belles-soeurs (sisters-in-law) "Accroche-toi aux branches - "Hold onto the branches...and so I have.
Alone, in the slant of sun, back against a stone wall, I've watched days pass from light to shadow - like a cat curling into warmth. "I went to collect the few personal belongings which...I held to be invaluable: my cat, my resolve to travel, and my solitude."
----Colette
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| Cat - Jonathan & Nicole's house |
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| Cattails - field near Charras |
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| Thistle - Tiny hands |
When our hands are alone, they open, like faces. There is no shore to their opening. St. Gerard
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| All the blue canoes - Aubeterre-sur-Dronne |
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| On the River Dronne |
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| Father & Baby daughter - Aubeterre-sur-Dronne |
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| Kevin - Bridge over the River Dronne |
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| Stone Bridge, Aubeterre-sur-Dronne |
From the Notebooks of Anne Verveine, VII
Distance was the house in which I welcomed you.
But it was in the river
that we became cadence, there where the current braided
together again, after the stone bridge stanchion parted the stream.
It was to last only as long as the beauty lasted.
Do you believe in the soul?
Words torn from the void, wet and mewling,
Where we walked on the mountain, water
poured around us, surged up from the springs, seethed
down into rivulets, rocky streams, and one long blinding cascade:
your kisses were an eau-de-vie and as bitter.
I am poured out like water.
Distance is feminine in French.
I held a knife to a man's throat and let him bleed quietly into a cup.
What does "us" mean?
Coiled serpentine headdress of Leonardo's woman:
you wanted her, I wanted you.
Chill sunlight flexing itself on the city river
gave me the emptiness I needed
to write these instructions: Sorrow
is a liqueur. Drink deep. We will all be consumed.
--Rosanna Warren
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| Parrot - Parc Colonial - Grosbot |
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| Statue - Parc Colonial |
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| Antoinette & Moi - Parc Colonial |
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| Berries & Bamboo - Parc Colonial |
I spent some time visiting animals; we seemed to be on the same wave length.
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| Rasputin - Le Maine Meunier - Chavenat |
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| Kevin & Rasputin - Honey Festival - Chavenat |
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| Geese, Chavenat Honey Festival |
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| Lizard - Doumerac |
OCTOBER – cut up poem version
berries
watched you sleep
all summer long -
ripened junipers
changed
to vinegar,
longing itself
eaten
at dawn
if that broken, yellow dog
wakes again at twilight
to turn into the bronze bobcat
furry and sure
climbing sixty foot trees
following the cry of her tennis ball concert
under a canopy of oak fingers
you know she can't see Tammy's backridge fence,
but she can still smell
buckets of damp Eucalyptus earth clinging,
hear the copper mushrooms
dried to dust
fallen -
a train whistle vanishing
through summer doorways.
watched you sleep
all summer long -
ripened junipers
changed
to vinegar,
longing itself
eaten
at dawn
if that broken, yellow dog
wakes again at twilight
to turn into the bronze bobcat
furry and sure
climbing sixty foot trees
following the cry of her tennis ball concert
under a canopy of oak fingers
you know she can't see Tammy's backridge fence,
but she can still smell
buckets of damp Eucalyptus earth clinging,
hear the copper mushrooms
dried to dust
fallen -
a train whistle vanishing
through summer doorways.
RA Martin
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| Champignons - Charras |
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| After harvest, field resting, waiting |
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| End of Day - Antennae waiting |
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| Sunset - Charras |
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| Tiny Buddha - Parc Colonial - Grosbot |
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| Rose - Doumerac |
& today à la Johnny Nash:
I can see clearly now the rain is gone.
I can see all the obstacles in my way.
Gone are the dark clouds that had me blind.
It's gonna be a bright (bright) bright (bright) sunshinin' day.
It's gonna be a bright (bright) bright (bright) sunshinin' day.
I can see all the obstacles in my way.
Gone are the dark clouds that had me blind.
It's gonna be a bright (bright) bright (bright) sunshinin' day.
It's gonna be a bright (bright) bright (bright) sunshinin' day.
I will be in Paris October 20 - 26 doing Tarot readings, meeting up with Irish friends from Ireland Poetry Tour AND to see Niki de St. Phalle's show at the Grand Palais. Still some slots open for readings on the 25th - ramartin8@gmail.com.
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| Ruthanne Doll - Made by Susan Andrews |
It says on the back: Ruthanne, a real doll - her heart as big as the great outdoors
Susan gave me this doll sometime in 197? - I treasure it. It has gone around the world with me & Susan is still migrating too with her other Oiseaux Sister, Carolyn Fellman. Check out their amazing artwork and workshops: www.oiseauxsisters.com
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| Susan Andrews - Artist/Dollmaker |
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| From July 2014 Summer Retreat - Moravia, New York |
