A TASTE OF WHAT'S TO COME

16, January, 2012

The writing process, like living, has its own timing and rhythm: it cannot be hurried; neither can it be ignored in the hope that inspiration will just present itself unannounced, let itself in, and take care of business while you are out doing something pleasant. In order for the muse to show up, the writer must always be present to greet it. And so it is that I’ve spent these last couple of weeks waiting for the moment to arrive when I could experience myself as the open vessel from which, with just the slightest tilt, the essence of what it is I want to say, having been alchemically blessed by the muse, pours itself forth with relative ease, surprising the writer as much, hopefully, as it will the reader. But oh, those days, sometimes, weeks or even months, of waiting, of not knowing if one is procrastinating or gestating.

I think, also, now that the introduction is on the page, that perhaps it took as long as it did for me to commit to it, was partly because I knew that once it was done the book, too, would be done. And then what? A sense of loss. Some sadness to be saying goodbye to a body of work that took almost a year to make. Not just the amazing privilege of having spent that time in Provence, but the gift of creating something with the man I love; of having journeyed both together and alone. The days of exploration followed by silence and then, usually late afternoon, the writing of the latest adventure and in so doing discovering the deepest connection to one’s experience, thoughts, and beliefs as well as allowing for new questions, often with no readily available answers.

We still have a tiny bit of tweaking to do, but basically this time next week photographs and text will have woven themselves together into the fabric that is this book and as such will journey on to the designer, the printer, the binder, the PR people until in October a book called Provence: Lasting Impressions, will find its way to the bookstores and online and hopefully into your hands.

We started this blog because we thought it would be an interesting way of showing people the journey from raw material to a finished work of art. It became a great forum for us, and evidently for many others. Over the months our readership has steadily increased and it is both heartening and comforting to feel the presence of so many of you eagerly following. So much so that we intend to continue posting on a regular basis. We have more adventures coming up this year as well as the ordinary day-to-day moments. We’d love to continue sharing with you and hope you’ll feel free to comment when you are so moved.

Although we cannot give you the whole thing, because of publishing rights, and we do want to stress that it is a first draft, here for your eyes only, is a sneak preview of the first half of the introduction.

 INTRODUCTION

We were offered the commission to make a book on Provence at an extraordinary moment in our lives. A moment when we had just decided to sell our cottage on the water’s edge on Cape Cod. It was a huge decision, to let go of a place where we had met and a cottage that we had restored together, nestled in an English garden by the sea.

It was there, for twenty-one years, that we put down roots, spent time with family and friends, swam at dawn and kayaked up the moonbeam. It was the place where we always thought our ashes would be scattered at low tide. But like many things to which we humans become attached, it had become the thing that imprisoned us, both financially and emotionally. 

With the recent loss of a close friend, we became super-conscious of our mortality and decided that we did not want to put off the things we kept saying wanted to do: to spend more time together, and to take a leap out into the world while we still have enough grey cells and working limbs to navigate the unknown.

Provence had not been on our list of places to explore and, in all honesty, when Barnes and Noble suggested it our initial response was “Provence? Why? Hasn’t it already been done?” The answer was yes, but not by us. And anyway who in their right minds would turn down an offer like that? Amazing how easily we can get in our own way.  So we said yes. And we will be eternally grateful to Michael Fragnito and Barbara Berger for their vision and generosity.

And so it was that at the tail end of winter we set off on our adventure. Oh, Provence, you might say, what’s such a big adventure about that? But does one have to travel to the wilds of Borneo or some such place in order to adventure? In fact, if it’s a challenge you want then going to a destination that’s already well-documented will force you to see beyond that which you “think” you know about such a place…that is if you are willing to let go of pre-conceived ideas and idealistic expectations…


...to be continued.