Every Saturday I focus on a different artist that I admire. From potters to painters, chefs to collectors, seamstress to songwriters, lifestyle to lovers... anyone who set the paintbrush, pastry brush, hands and heart on fire to create.
Those who inspire art to flow where it may...
I' m Denise (aka WR aka Weenis Rubber). I have been spending summers in a small village not far from Corey's. You see, four years ago, Vlad, my husband, and I made a dream come true and bought this charming apartment in a refurbished 17th century olive oil mill. My grandfather was from France and Vlad lived on the Côte d'Azur from the age of four to nine.
Picture this: Fall 2008, I am looking for Provençal fabric to decorate my dining room and kitchen, so I Google pictures, click on the one I love and fell on Corey's blog. I emailed Corey to introduce myself and to say that we would be living nearby. We met, and I'm happy to say that she and FH are our dear friends.
Anyhow, this summer, Corey is working on a wedding project and I've gotten to spend a fair amount of time at her place. It has made me think about all the lessons Provence and Corey are teaching me.
The art of blogging, the art of blooming where you're planted, the art of making the old new again and the art of living fully in Provence to name a few. Brocanting, rummaging through second hand stores, how to use a four inch piece of ribbon that looks fit for the garbage can, repurposing centuries old thingamajiggies for something altogether different than what they were originally meant to be used for... These make up the table of contents of my summer curriculum in Provence.
This summer, we found the perfect table de ferme and chairs to replace the IKEA dining room table that came with the apartment. We added two lovely terra cotta tiles to the vignette on the wall of the staircase where a magnificent aged tapestry hangs. This I found on my first outing with Corey where I was infected, happily, with a burgeoning brocante virus. My husband has been asking me to visit towns rather than antiques... (although towns around here ARE antiques...)
Anyway, Provence makes the artist in me come alive, makes my blood churn and my head spin with fantasies that involve trumeau mirrors, flax blankets and Andouze pottery. I get all hot and bothered by the sight of a piece of Toile de Jouy... Heaven help me I have fallen... in love with old things that me feel young again! What old thing has given YOU a charge lately?