Settled !

Long time no write... But here I am, in New Mexico. settled.

I found my land, my home, my dream...

It s strange when you think of it : I planned this trip from France more than a year ago, and I had never set a foot in New Mexico before. but I fell in love with Santa Fe and the area while researching Zuni fetishes (did I say in a previous post hat it s a Zuni Fetish of a bear, bought in Colorado, in a Grand Canyon Art shop, in 1987, that lead me here ?!?), and I was pretty sure I would find my happiness somewhere on the a turquoise Trail...

Well, here I am !

I found the house I wanted, negotiated it, bought it, furnished it (economically, I am an artist, don t need that much !)

And I am now a proud New Mexican in my new land of adoption.

God, how it love it here. The sky changing all the time, with its cloud rushing away in the most peculiar forms

(Oh, here is my Bear again!)

The storms that wash the ground and make the trees sing in the wind.

The dawns and the sunsets all different (and without a trace if pollution)

The neighbours who say hello to each other on the road and stop to get the last information about the mountain lion in the area ...

The kids who can play outside, shout, jump, run, and be real kids...

Yes, I love it here. The fifth wheel trip was a great way to make sure I found the place I really wanted : I have spent time in the meadow, in the plains, in the desert... And I have chosen the mountains I fell in love wih at first glance.

And I have even a friendly visitor now, nearly every morning...

He is a bit shy, and not that much talkative,

But it s such a nice fellow

I work here, in my sunny living room, drawing or writing (did I tell you my book Lion or Liar is available in English now ? Yes I think so )

And here comes my little friend, obviously curious to know more about French immigrants - or pastel drawing, I am still not sure

My parrot (of, did I tell you that Rio, my African Grey Parrot, finally made it through the US custom and quarantine and is now there ?) has a crush on this little fellow and greets him of the nicest and softest "coucou"a French word that's part Hello part Pickaboo and that he uses to say hi...

("Coucou !")

I am settled, and I am in love with my new place. So is my son Noe, who has spent the month of July there.... 

(Yes, we do water the surroundings of the chimney before we enjoy the fire on the patio)

So, now that the house is found,

"Place au travail"

Back to work !!!

Road runner

I just saw a road runner ! I had never seen one before.

It s funny because when I was ten, my parents took me a few times to a restaurant in Geneva that was called the road runner, and I was fascinated by the drawings and pictures of this bird there.

But when i asked my mother about it, 

She told me very seriously that it was an Australian bird and that he was anyway nearly totally extinct

And I have watched for years the coyote chase the road runner in cartoons, a bit wondering why this coyote had to chase a bird down there in Australia ... But we'll, with cartoonists you just don t know,

And at that time I trusted my mother

It s only last year while preparing my trip that I realized that in fact this bird lives here. I was so happy. It has always been such a special bird to me !

I just crossed the path of one. Ooops they are fast. But what a nice, colorful, delightful bird.

I am smiling like a child :-)

By the way, do you know that pretty Apache tale about road runners - I say pretty, but in fact it s the wisest way to describe the problem we have to find good leaders : from the proud with empty heads to the dumb or even worse the clever telling good words but with bad values ... In a "child tale" everything is said 

This story is about a time when birds were still like people. The birds got together to talk. "The different clans (animals) all have leaders, but we do not," they said. "We are good for nothing. It would be good for us to choose a leader also. He could then speak for us about our activities," they said. 

So the birds selected the oriole first. They said, "His feathers are very nice." Because of his feathers they thought they wanted him to be their leader. They discussed this for some time. "Well, never mind him after all," they said. "His long clothes are pretty, but he doesn't speak very much. If he becomes our leader he might not speak well for us in the future." They put him aside. 

Then they chose the mocking bird. But they immediately said, "He is too talkative. He always speaks bad and mocks things. It would not be good for him to become our leader. He might speak even worse for us in the future." They put him aside to choose again. 

The next time they chose a bluejay. "What would it be like for us if we chose him to be the leader?" they asked. "He is also like the other one. He talks too much. It would not be good for him to speak for us. He's too stubborn, and he also brags about himself. There would be a lot of mocking." They also set him aside. 

"In that case, should it be the roadrunner?" they said. "He's good for sure. He would be fast for us in running to meetings. And he also talks well. It would be good for us if he became our leader." 

Therefore, the roadrunner became the leader. Nowadays, roadrunner is the leader of all the birds. 

Well. I am on the road, so I am just waiting for the runner !

Las Vegas !!!!!

But not the Las Vegas you think of . 

God knows I hate Las Vegas Nevada - where I have spent a few trips for the (supposedly professional ) CES (I say supposedly because I have rapidly enough understood that my fellow French Internet professional were much more into casinos, night out and ... Eh, yes, hookers, than into work down there. Exactly the kind of things you just don t want to know about your boss when you meet his wife at work often-  for myself it was more a way to get in my beloved West for some time in the desert, all expenses paid, and for some strange meeting with a coyote that I will tell you sometimes)

So we are obviously not in Las Vegas Nevada 

but 

in the much more interesting Las Vegas New Mexico - this part of West that once was a terrible territory full of fight and fury - Billy the Kid, Indian wars, miners, I think this earth has seen about anything a poor earth can see from the worst of humanity.

But today it is, viewed form the highway (hum, probably quite a superficial view, I admit that easily) a peaceful place with gorgeous mountains , ranches where horses can be seen pacing gracefully, and an interesting city where I plan to spend a few days with Noé , my son, to introduce him to the Wild West history.

We are in an rv park , still a bit tired of the trip from Pojoaque - yes I must admit that sometimes, when you hook, drive in the mountians (and there are work on roads everywhere ! What a stress when you are huge and the road is narrowed everywhere with workers near you fifth wheel on the right and holes in the road on the left !) , unhook, 

you don t feel like rushing out immediately to discover the land you have arrived in.

But we will hang in Las Vegas tomorrow, and maybe find a place to listen to some good music. I want to listen to some country music and see my son experience the "live sound" for once - in France there are nearly no place where you can listen to a live band play, apart from the huge pop stars concerts-

Want to take a French tourist and his son out for a ride ? Applications welcome, I would love to discover this place with the help of some American Cowboy or Indian...

. 

"Il est venu" - he has come

I don't paint or draw or sculptor really like what us described in books or learned in classes. Neither do I write like I have been taught to, actually.

I don t decide. I ask. And people, or animals, or characters, they accept and come. Or not.

I know I have a different way to show things - which is often a complex for me by the way, in this century of hyper realism and hyper techniques where you are supposed to make drawings that resemble a photography - or don t ressemble anything and are supposed to be then "conceptual".

I just cannot work like this, and I create a bit like, probably, most do pray - I don t pray, it s something that has been broken in me a long time ago, when I was a little girl in a Swiss Banker family where faith was considered to be dumb and ridiculous -

And even though I have a strong faith, I just can t pray like anybody even now -

So I suppose one could say I pray when I draw, paint, sculpt, or write... I give myself to what I am doing, and ask the Big All to help me and use my body to give birth to what is right now.

I suppose also that's why I am absolutely unable to draw violence, hunt, death, or even fighting. The only fact to look at such a scene takes me out of where I am able to work, for it need happiness, light, joy, or at least real strength and  beauty in what I see, for me to be able to draw it 

Sometimes it comes as a surprise , even (surtout ?) to me. In my novel "lion or liar" , one of my characters obstinately refused to say and do what I was about to write , one morning. I had written a careful and detailed plan of my book, with all my characters well defined and my plan. And this character came to me one morning, smelling fire, to tell me "something had happened I had notplanned". I was pissed of. Being forced to change all my plans because of a stubborn functionary man, I had no idea if it happened to anyone apart me ?.. But I had no choice, words did not come as long as I refused to write down what he had to say and accept the change of plans.

Turned out it changed all my plans for the mystery, he suspend, and even the murderer, 

but I soon realised my history went better after that, 

and I have learned then (it was in 96-98) to trust my creations better than myself.

this happens all the times in what I draw and sculpt. I take a picture of what I feel encounter to work, I start my work... And sometime it s not who I think I am drawing who shows up. 

One of my first sculptures that made it to a French National exhibit happened exactly like this.... I started with a cub bear photography, and worked for an hour without  getting what I saw. 

Till I got from my clay bear this message : "the cub does not want to come, he is not the one for this situation, let me stay, I am the one for you today."

And this adult  bear I had not expected went all the way to my first exhibit...

I call it the "he has come " moment ("il est venu", in French.)

The moment when the animal or the character accepts to come and to give me something of himself which is not a "work of mine" 

Sometimes it does not work : nobody wants to come. And I feel empty like a lost abalone shell.

And most of the times (always ?) it s to me a disappointment once my art is done, even if the life comes, for it s NEVER what I has envisioned, 

and to me the finished work is always a suffering (I know the word may look strong, but to me  it is,) for I always have this "betrayal of beauty I have seen" feeling.

I am not sure if taking classes in art could have eased that feeling. Maybe, when a teacher praises your work, or when you get good grades, it helps make you feel better than what you originally thought of yourself. But I did not get a chance to study art, I had to study business and politics, as my parents had decided for me....

I am now far from my International Marketing and Business MBA as you can see !

So I work on who wants to come. And now, I slowly allow my pen to go for people - something I have never done before in fact, for I am soooo anxious to "betray" my models that I have never drawn people before - you generally don t get a painful remark or worse a strong interdiction to "ever do that to me again" from a bear or a gorilla - heureusement.

But here I feel the urge to draw what I see and have never seen before. Not only the nature. Not only the animals. Not only the landscapes.

But also the people.

Those who have a link with the world I have never met in France before. The horses whisperer, the wild souls tamers, the farmers loving their land and listening to the wind in the trees like old shamans.

I have no ideas where this will take me. 

I just let the ones who want to come in my work drop in. I use photography, old pictures, what I find that makes echo to what I see here in reality. 

And I have learned this morning that Apaches did say, a century ago, that some (not all) photographers were"shadow catchers", for they were able with their photos to steal a part of the soul.

I try not to steal, but I know that when I draw someone, I enter in deep understanding of who he or she is. I feel the pains and the broken smiles, I touch the skins and the muscles created by lives. I do feel sometimes I touch a part of the soul, for when you draw, you go , curiously, under the skin.

I thank those who let me draw them and forgive my "special style"

And I go back to this world where I have to find my son, gone for a tour in the neighborhood, while I was lost in my drawings...

Snow on the mountains

This morning, in Pojoaque, surprise !

I love snow on mountains, and cannot wait to see the sun rise

My African novel 'Lion or Liar' is on sale in the US !

The mystery book I have written after my African trips, "Lion or Liar ?",
has been translated in English (it was originally in French, "bien sur')

and is now on sale in the US !

You can now buy the paper book here 

(the novel is also available in a PDF version.
And I will let you know when it will be available on Amazon and the Apple Bookstore)

LION OR LIAR ?

Tanzania, Lion River Lodge: calm and luxury in the midst of one of the most beautiful wildlife reservations in Western Africa. Some billionaires have gathered for the annual convention of their international association for the protection of nature. Everything looks promising until the young and beautiful Sophie de Marçaignac is found brutally murdered. Who killed her? And why?  

Fanny Allema, field veterinarian, finds herself forced to lead the investigation. It’s up to her to search, observe, and understand. Who is lying? Who is telling the truth? Accompany Fanny in the unexpected investigation she leads with diplomacy and humor, and discover the protected yet fragile nature of this region of Africa, its magnificent fauna, and the efforts of those trying to protect it.  

Fanny will learn- but who doesn’t know it already? - that animals are not always the wildest ones, and humans not always the most civilized ones…  

So then, who is the lion, and who is the liar?

Desert morning

Here is a little 'postcard' from the desert, this morning...

Wish you all a nice day too !...