This blog started as a way to share my sense of wonder as I learned about gardening. My canvas is a tiny North-facing back garden in Kent, but as gardening lore will have us believe size doesn’t really matter, here I am (please don’t expect anything grand).
Gardening, writing : the contemplation of things living and dying, fighting and yielding, as well as the necessary fine-tuning of one’s body and soul to time, space, light and wind, nurtures a disposition akin to that of poetic mindfulness. Both are similar ways of positioning oneself in the world and, in many aspects, even similar in practice.
I believe poetry is of a revelatory nature. Shining a unique light on the relationship between man and the world from where it arises, it unveils something of their respective nature and our destiny. In my understanding, any poetic endeavour aims to answer, however imperfectly, to that call.
I tend to write about gardening in English and about other topics in French. Here and there, you will stumble on mentions of the Mediterranean. That is where my heart resides, whatever my genes might say.
In my previous life, I was Antigone, except I converted to Christianity instead of dying. Now I understand Creon more (i.e. I am becoming old). I want to live. Despite a serious and intense disposition, I am trying not to take life too seriously – but then I find its depth of beauty utterly and tragically compelling.
The Sphinx, painting by James Bland – http://www.jamesblandpaintings.com/