For more on this sculpture by the French artist, David David (not a typo), take a look here.
Saturday:
The No King’s March in Toulouse:
I look drunk, and I probably should have been. It was freezing. I’m enveloped here in one of the blue blankets the cafe owner kindly provided for outdoor diners. There were two octogenarians in our group, and they weren’t complaining about the elements, so I tried to adjust my attitude. When people in their 80s brave an hour-long train ride and schlep through the rain in order to protest, you really get a sense of how untenable the situation has become in the United States. The women I was traveling with participated in civil rights demonstrations during the 1960s. They made a difference back then, and they believe we can make a difference now. Only about 40 expats were on-site at the demonstration in Toulouse. Our little band of artists would have been missed if we had wussed out. We returned to Auvillar on Saturday evening, weathered but happy that we made the effort.
***
On Thursday, Pam (a longtime Auvillar resident and museum volunteer) offered the Moulin a Nef Fellows a tour of the village, which included the house of the Director of Tourism, Muriel Pelessier. Pelessier’s family has owned their home in Auvillar for more than 100 years. Below are the lovely murals painted by Pelessier’s mother.
The Auvillar town square, mostly comprised of 17th and 18th-century structures, includes a couple of 15th-century homes (below).
For an in-depth look at the village of Auvillar, see here. According to Pelessier, more than 18,000 pilgrims pass through Auvillar every year as they travel along the Camino de Santiago.
Every Tuesday, we drive to Valence D’Agen for the Tuesday market. Everything is fresh here—so fresh you might find a slug or two nestled in your lettuce. Produce does not last as long as it does in the States, but it tastes better.
Honestly, everything tastes better here.
The wine is inexpensive—5 to 6 euros for a stellar bottle of Bordeaux. The cheese is sensational. All the other residents are relishing the bread. Unfortunately, I can’t eat it because I have Celiac. Or maybe it is fortunate. If I could eat the bread, I might have to buy a new pair of jeans.
As it is, three weeks in, I can barely button mine.
Poetry:
I have been working on a novel revision these past few weeks, so I don’t have much to share in the way of poetry, but I have been taking classes with Alina Stefanescu through the Conscious Writers Collective. She is brilliant. If you are looking for inspiration, you might want to spend a few minutes browsing through her website, especially her blog.
À bientôt!
Kelly

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