I've written quite a bit about my friend Wendy, who was the concierge at the hotel I landed in after I arrived in Paris in '95 and Madam Vera had died. I was a wreck. She was wonderful. We stood at the counter one day while she read and translated Madam Vera's obituary for me. By October of '97, I was making my second visit to the Lot and Wendy had made me her amazing offer. I had "Create the Work You Love With Me" and came home and wrote a piece to accompany my photos called: "The Window on the Lot". I'd like to share a bit of it here with you-the beginning-the end and a piece in the middle about my very first French Professor-Lester!
I used to think I was a city girl. I've always loved Paris. I have seen it in all seasons. I know that there is color there, but the Paris of my heart is a series of Robert Doisneau photographs set to the tune of La Vie En Rose. The lovers were always in love. They always kissed and touched. Life and love survived in a simpler time. My eyes chose to see and my heart chose to feel only the black and white and the shades of gray. I was once told that you could find your heart in Paris. I did. It led me to my soul-le Lot. When I think of le Lot, I see only color. I can't remember a color so crisp or life so alive as that which I first saw and felt standing in front of my window on le Lot. The sky was clear. The air smelled fresh and the sun always shown in my mind's eye...
...A four-legged guy remains by my side. Lester is often better company than the two-legged variety. As a pup, he got into a fight with a yappy poodle that scarred his champion face just below the right eye. Poor Lester, he is no longer the perfect specimen of sable Labrador retriever. Resting his nose on my leg after a sloppy kiss, he looks at me with his playful beckoning brown eyes, and I can't think of a thing that could make him more perfect. He is my French Professor. I have learned that couchez means lie down, assis means sit, and arrete means stop. When I say bonjour, Lester gives me his paw. Just when you forget that he is really a dog, you find him chasing the bumpers of cars at full speed down the dirt road of a nearby farmer's land,swimming and fetching in the Lot, lifting his leg on the mailbox, and greeting you at the gate with his huge metal dish in his mouth. Lester is multi-talented. I know he would say j'ai faim if he could...
...It is morning, but the sun is not yet up. I return to Paris today on a very early train. The lights of St. Cirq Lapopie are casting a mystical shadow at the close of my trip. Will I return? Could I return to stay for a year to write and "hang out" in France or is it just wishful thinking? Robert Johnson said: "If a fantasy is not responded to, it becomes an energy leak. It is the creative faculty, squandering itself into wishful thinking. Wishing for what one does not have is a symptom of unaligned energy."
Epilogue-My friends moved to Brussels in the spring. Lester found a new home. But, I return to le Lot in the fall.
The Epilogue's Epilogue-Wendy and Stephane are now living in Viet Nam with their children Matthieu and Sarah. They've sold their home in Tour de Faure. I'm now living on the Lot and have many windows on the Lot. Wendy and her family will visit this summer!
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