So, I left Paris on Day 6, Jumped on the train to Valence, then hopped on a bus to Privas. I saw some unique use of conifers as hedges/ backdrops to properties, they would mix up-right feathery junipers, with spikey junipers and musky cedars, all with a slight variation of dark green, some slightly metallic, all wispy and it created a real rich visual texture.
But I digress. Sandra and I went for dinner with Bruno, her brother, and her friend Sam a few nights before this. It was a great fun time in a cozy little restaurant near Hotel de Ville in Paris. I did Notre Dame de Paris, the Louvre (which was intense), Saint Chapelle, and Versailles - Im a very hard working tourist to have done all this and read all of Jpod, Coupland is my new favourite author. Friday night I ran into Dave, a guy who was in my 19th century philosophy class, someone I didnt know well and I hadn't seen in over a year! Funny enough I ran into him in Paris' only Canadian bookstore (yes, I know, they have one) and he was with two lovely kids from Bristol. So we had a night out on the town, and Sandra met us and took us out to the Bastille.
But, now to the Art Farm, I arrived slightly parched, due to self-inflicted dehydration the night before. I arrived at the best time, so Johnny the mastermind behind the Art Farm and Nick, a man of indeterminate origin, undecided passport, who has been travelling for years despite only being 22. You see, the Ardeche, the region I'm in, has been hit with more snow this year than any before. Of course to me it was pleasant having come from -20 Toronto, its just a brisk fall here really. But there was snow, and the heater stove in bedrooms had just broke last night, and it's hard to patch together a new glass pane 3 feet by 2 feet. So I smother myself in blankets at night and my misty breath puts me to sleep. Also, the internet is down, and the only toilet is outside. It's called a dry toilet, basically an outhouse, but without the house part. I decided to just hold it all in at first, but then last night we had a full moon, I gave it a test drive and it ended up being the most liberating experience I've ever had. A fully exposed toilet on a mountain side. Brilliant.
To the stones, the Coiron is a mostly basalt plateau, but there is limestone in other areas. We have some sandstone, very few and they are finely worked quoins, and some limestone that was stolen from a church ruin in the area by all the local peasants. Mostly it's basalt, nicely rounded, some squarishly shaped, and some with nice seams for spliting.
This picture is from one side of the storage barn. You can see what looks to be a sheep carcass above the barrel vault, but in fact it's a destroyed mattress. These barrel vaults are huge, 20-40 feet deep some of them, and 10 feet wide.
While in the Rodin museum everyone else was really interested in the sculpture, I was too, but I also couldn't stop staring at the finely wrought floor and these beautiful fire places. I particularly like the herringbone brick pattern here. Don't mind the contemporary bug-like art sculpture in the mirror, it was tried to shock/inspire, it failed in both.
I have been reading about this cathedral, St.Chapelle, in Paris, for years. I made my sister visit it last year, and it wasn't disappointing in the least.
This is a picture of the storage shed beside the house. It has two barrel vaults side by side which support floors above. The house is designed with the same principal. Both buildings were completely parged outside in cement in the 50's, and the interior of the house was parged as well. I decided on this photo because the storage shed shows more of the stonework, the cement having fallen off. Johnny and Nick, and me during the evening, are in the process of ripping this hideous material off and repointing with local lime mortar.
I would like to continue writing more but Im at Mc Donald's right now, stealing their magical sky internet, and my computer is running out of batteries. Jo-knee and Nick are waiting for me too. More to follow soon.
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